


Tomorrow is in Your Hands

by Autobot_Sonic



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, F/M, Masturbation, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Politics, Post-Canon, Post-Optimus Prime: 25 (IDW), Post-The Transformers: Unicron Issue 6 (IDW), Post-Transformers: Lost Light 25, Sort Of, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-09-01 23:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobot_Sonic/pseuds/Autobot_Sonic
Summary: After the events of Unicron, Starscream had come to terms with his own death, ready to spend the rest of eternity as part of Bumblebee’s mind as he serves as the Cybertronian representative of the Galactic Council. However, once Bumblebee starts to suffer from processor degradation as a result of his connection to Starscream, he undergoes a procedure to have Starscream removed from his head and placed into a newly forged protoform to be raised in an advanced growth chamber.Now years later, Starscream awakens to a new Cybertron, one where the planet is undergoing a new age of peace and prosperity thanks to Windblade’s reign as ruler. However, this peace is threatened when a Cybertronian is murdered by an unknown individual with the intent to restart the Decepticon movement. Starscream, Windblade, Bumblebee, and others must work together if they wish to keep Cybertron from falling back into disarray, made even worse when news of Starscream’s “revival” becomes public.And not to mention the feelings growing between Starscream and Windblade...





	1. Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Comments (including criticisms) are much appreciated! Just to give you a heads up as far as posting chapters go, the entire fic is finished, but chapters will be posted once every week for the remainder of this month as per the rules of the Big Bang. After that, I'll probably post the last three chapters over the course of the first week of September! Can't wait to hear what you all think of this!
> 
> Also, big shoutout to the EXTREMELY talented artist @sasharnie on Twitter who was one of two artists I was partnered with for this fic! She went ahead and created a wonderful comic cover/movie poster for this fic that you can find below and here: https://twitter.com/sasharnie/status/1162758413153001472/photo/1

“Tell Windblade to take care of Earth, will you? Oh, who am I kidding? She probably won’t even try to _conquer_ the place…”

Peace.

That’s how Starscream had felt upon activating the Talisman. Not the blinding light it produced, nor the brief, but excruciating pain he was sure he would feel as the relic tore apart his frame from the outside, peeling his armor apart until his spark was shattered into mere atoms.

Instead, he felt nothing but peace in the few extra seconds of life he had left.

In those precious seconds, Starscream had several thoughts running through his head. He knew the Prime would succeed in felling Unicron. He always succeeded, for that matter. But he did have his regrets. He regretted his assassination attempt on Thundercracker for that _Primus awful _movie he commissioned him to make.

Well, maybe not _that _awful…But anyway…

He regretted how he had treated Bumblebee all those years the poor scout had been trapped inside his head. To be honest, had he actually _listened _to that little brat, he’d have probably dealt with only a fraction of the troubles he had during his stint as Cybertron’s leader. But then again, that would’ve been a rather boring reign then, wouldn’t it?

The Chosen One, meant to unite all of Cybertron…If only he knew that meant it was to unite them against _himself…_

He _especially _regretted how he wouldn’t be around to see Megatron return from his little _quest _with the rest of Rodimus and his pathetic crew. Oh, he knew he was still alive. Perhaps not Rodimus and the others, but Megatron was for sure still alive. From all the beatings, all the hardships he saw his “lord” endure, Starscream knew better than to believe the Decepticon Justice Division would be able to take him down.

Of course, he _did _lament the fact that he wouldn’t be there to watch his execution when he returned…Oh, how he would have _loved _to rub his victory in his former master’s face; he, _Starscream, _helped save the galaxy from a planet destroying super-weapon, and made amends to be respected by his people.

Ah, well…He supposed having Prowl or the Prime carry out his execution would suffice.

But if he had to be honest, his biggest regret by far was one he had no idea he even regretted until this very moment.

Windblade.

That femme…She caused more trouble for Starscream than he could remember. That whole mess her friend Chromia caused with the bombings, exposing his scheme with the Badgeless, forcing him to make this damned “Council of Worlds”…

And it was all because he was selfish.

He looked back on that moment; did he _truly _have to desire power that badly? Was he so starved for attention, he had to act like a dictator himself?

He never knew when enough was enough. Starscream knew that well. He tried with the Decepticon’s after Megatron ended up on the brink of death years ago, and what did that give him? The whole faction on the verge of collapse, his wings torn to shreds, and a broken jaw among other physical, and mental injuries.

Windblade…She only wanted what was best for Cybertron and its people. Starscream still acted like he wanted to stand on top. Heh. If only he realized that sooner…Maybe then she probably wouldn’t have hated him with every fiber in her frame for most part. She did so much for him…Helped form the Council of Worlds, purged Vigilem from his processor when she could have easily left him to die, kept his darkest secrets as long as she could…And look how he repaid that; with nothing but mistrust and threats, with only the occasional good gesture.

He was a terrible mech, he knew that for sure. He didn’t deserve to have friends. They all ended up dead anyway. Metalhawk, Wheeljack, Blurr…

She was the only one left.

He only hoped, that once this was all over, she would finally get the respect she deserved. Because if anyone else could lead whatever Cybertronians were left when this whole thing ended, she could.

She’d do far better than he could ever hope to.

That was all _he _could ever hope-

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peace.

That’s all Starscream felt as, with a miracle, his optics opened. The amber sky in front of him, the annoying caws of seagulls, one of _many _irritating Earth species he had to listen to Thundercracker describe to him.

Wait…Earth?

How was this possible? Just moments ago he was hundreds of thousands of miles above this pathetic pile of dirt, fighting with the Prime, the rest of his trine, and countless others to protect it. He _died _up there. How was he-?

Oh.

The seeker’s optics fixated on a figure in front of him, standing alone on the shore. That stupid sun got in the way of seeing it clearly, but it was impossible for him not to recognize the mech at that point. His short stature, the small horned protrusions on the sides of his head…

Fate had a twisted sense of humor, didn’t it?

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, Starscream approached Bumblebee, his pedes sinking into the sand under them just like they would any other Cybertronian. Yep…still hated it. 

No words needed to be said as he stood by the yellow scout’s side. Bumblebee could tell the distinct, begrudging tone the seeker’s pedesteps had. After all, he _had _spent nearly a decade with only him to talk to.

Bee’s face was one of shock at first upon seeing Starscream, unable to believe what he was seeing after hearing of the reports. That look quickly turned to one of amusement as he saw the soft smirk on the seeker’s face.

“What are the odds even?” Bee asked aloud as he looked back out towards the ocean.

“Hmph. You’re not my _first _choice of a mech to have their conscience stuck in for the rest of their days.” Starscream replied nonchalantly.

“Even in death, you’re still an aft, huh?”

“You expect anything less from your _Chosen One_?”

The two mechs shared a soft laugh. He missed this. They both did. Even if neither of them would admit it.

“I’m gonna be representing the Cybertronians on the Galactic Council. After Optimus’ funer-I mean, ceremony…” Bee said after a while. “You could come too, you know. I mean, I’m not leaving until after the ceremony. It’ll be a momentous day of _interstellar relations. _You know, the kind of thing you absolutely _love._”

Starscream couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips at the scout’s words. Optimus Prime, The Exalted One, The Arisen…Glad to know he was just as mortal as himself.

“I’d hazard a guess I would not be welcome at neither the funeral nor the Galactic Council.” He then replied.

“You _do _know you saved the universe, right?”

“Pfft. Not if you ask anyone.”

“Oh, Primus, you’re jealous Optimus is getting all the credit, aren’t you?”

“Who, me? _Jealous_?” The seeker said with another amused smirk. “It’s okay. People will _probably _remember me. That’s all I can ask for, I guess.”

“Plus saving the universe, right?” Bumblebee added. “That’s gotta count for something.”

The scout took a deep sigh after this.

“Come on, Starscream…I’ll be lonely out there for weeks at a time, trying to be a diplomat. Anyway…You got somewhere better to be?”

“Well…If it _must _be you, I suppose I can manage…”

A soft smile formed on Bumblebee’s face, looking back at his old friend for a moment.

“Well then, let’s get to it…” He replied, taking one last look out at the setting sun before walking back towards the mainland. “We’ve got a whole civilization to represent…No pressure, right?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starscream couldn’t believe Bumblebee was able to tolerate this for months on end.

It had already been a year since Unicron was destroyed, and it seemed like peace had finally managed to be secured across the galaxy for the first time in quite a while. Windblade and Bumblebee truly have managed to turn things around for the better.

Well…Not that’d he would _ever _tell them that to their faces.

But, he digressed. The Chosen One looked out the port window of Bee’s private quarters in his transport shuttle, Earth’s sun far enough away that he was sure he could hold it right in his hand like a ball of scrap. He and the former scout had been stuck with meetings after meetings, visits after political visits for several months now, he had almost forgotten the state of New Cybertron when they last left it. The massive planet was now part of this solar system, its orbit not too far away from Earth’s very own.

New Cybertron…Bah.

There wasn’t anything “new” about it. Bumblebee had told Starscream of Rodimus and his crew’s journey into this “Functionist” universe. The fact that the _entire planet _was transformed into a living Cybertronian that the crew of the Lost Light had to fight…How preposterous! Not to mention the fact that their ship’s therapist was actually _Primus himself_!

And to make matters worse, Megatron _of course _had to be the hero who saved it all…For all the murder, all the genocide and betrayals he had committed, he was practically _revered _by the Lost Light crew for his acts!

Starscream would’ve been furious if the former tyrant wasn’t executed upon return.

Oh yes, _that _was for sure something he was glad to have seen. Granted, Megatron never knew he actually _was _watching, but Starscream was pleased nonetheless. In all honesty, he wanted to rub it right in that bastard’s face…The Knights of Cybertron proving to be nothing but a mere sparkling’s tale, the majority of Cybertronians still wanting his head after all the apparent “good” he did…He _especially _wanted to gloat to him about how he, _Starscream _did more (relative) good for the Cybertronian race than Megatron ever could, and that HE would be watching the spark extractor pluck his life source right out of his chest with utter glee. Perhaps he’d even taunt him into begging for his life.

Much to the former ruler’s chagrin however, Megatron wouldn’t give him, Bumblebee, Windblade, Prowl, or any of the countless other’s who despised him as he died that satisfaction.

Instead, he was treated to the warlord taking his impending demise in stride…as if he actually _wanted _to die.

It wasn’t as satisfying as Starscream hoped it would be. But, Megatron was dead, and he wasn’t. Well, not _completely_, anyway. And that was just the right amount of satisfaction he needed.

“Starscream?”

Bumblebee’s call snapped the seeker out of his thoughts, turning away from the window to face him.

“What is it now?” He asked with an annoyed sigh. “Believe it or not I was actually _enjoying _the scenery for once.”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to ‘enjoy’ New Cybertron’s scenery when we touch down,” the Cybertronian councilmech replied. “Auto-pilot says we touch down in about thirty kliks.”

“Can you _please _not call it New Cybertron in front of me?” Starscream sighed once again, moving to the berth to sit down. “There’s nothing _new _about it.”

“Hey, that’s the name Windblade came up with.”

“Yes, and you know very well that I hate it.”

“You hate _a lot _of things, Starscream.”

“Bah, don’t make me start hating your attitude now, I have enough to grow my ire already…”

A small smile formed on Bumblebee’s face once their banter ended. Despite the uninterested and annoyed front he was putting on, the former Autobot scout knew Starscream was happy with the progress the Cybertronian race had gained in just the course of a year.

And he _certainly _knew just how proud the seeker was of Windblade for keeping it all together.

“I bet you’re probably happy to go see Windblade again.” He stated to his friend, sitting on the berth next to him.

“I won’t be exactly _seeing _her, Bumblebee…” Starscream groaned as he rubbed his temple with one hand. “Hard to call it that when we won’t be able to interact with each other…”

“I _could _still tell her, you know,” Bee replied, noticing the change of tone in the former ruler’s voice. “That you’re with me. Like I was with you.”

The yellow mech playfully tapped the side of his head with one digit for emphasis, his face still wearing that infectious, comforting smile in the hopes that his friend would change his mind.

“I said it before, Bumblebee, _no,_” Starscream said with a surprising amount of sternness in his voice, wings twitching a bit at the same time. Like they usually do when he is agitated. “It’s bad enough _you _know I’m...well, not _completely _dead. I don’t want to drag her or anyone else into this.”

Bumblebee’s smile faltered after hearing his friend reaffirm his decision. He understood his reasoning behind it, but still wished that he would take a chance with it. Contrary to belief, the former Cityspeaker and a few other Cybertronians actually spoke fondly of Starscream’s actions in the end.

“Besides…” the seeker sighed again as his head turned towards the window once again as their ship got ever closer to New Cybertron. “They don’t need me back in their lives…They’re probably better off without me anyway.”

“Starscream, that’s not-“

Bumblebee’s words were interrupted as a sudden, sharp pain shot through the scout’s processor. He let out a soft groan of pain, holding his helm with one hand as he leaned down more to recoil from the sudden jolt. Starscream turned back to the small mech with a somewhat concerned look.

“Again?” He asked, leaning into closer to read Bee’s expression.

“Y-Yeah…” He groaned back, taking deep exvents for a few moments before finally sitting up straight again, having blocked out the pain. “I’m fine now.”

“Bumblebee, this is the third one this week…” The seeker stressed. “They’re getting more frequent.

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing to worry about,” He reaffirmed. “I’ve just been up for days straight with these meetings. Probably just processor burnout…”

Starscream gave the former scout a brief, skeptical look before scoffing and turning back to the window, their ship quickly entering the planet’s atmosphere en route to Iacon.

“I swear, this ‘gallant knight’ act of yours is going to be the death of you one day…_again._”

“Yeah, well I’ll take my chances…”

The sun shined bright on the neon city below the two mechs as the ship began its descent towards a landing platform on the side of the large tower where Windblade’s office resided along with the various other members of the Cybertronian government. Starscream looked upon the sight both with fondness and resentment; fondness for the beauty in the tower’s architecture and the power he felt gazing down upon all of his subjects there from his private quarters, and resentment for the multitude of closed meetings he had arranged there, the secret test chambers in the tower’s lower levels where he had kept Wheeljack and Swindle in essentially eternal comas in CR chambers, not to mention where he had Airachnid brainwash the Combaticons for his personal gain, and of course the countless times he had threatened Windblade here, whether it be with her life or exposing that murder her friend Chromia had done all those years ago.

He tried not to dwell on those latter thoughts.

Starscream was brought out of his thoughts as his optics caught something of interest as he gazed down on the landing pad. And he swore if he had an actual spark in that moment it would’ve skipped a beat for sure.

Walking over to meet Bumblebee as he and the seeker landed was none other than Windblade herself, the red and black armor she wore impossible for Starscream to ever forget. Primus, he hadn’t seen her ever since his death and in an instant, a multitude of feelings washed over his body like waves; regret, happiness, fear…

Admiration…

Those thoughts quickly shifted to disgust however when he saw the femme walking beside the new ruler of Cybertron, the seeker unsure if he could cringe any harder than he was right now.

Chromia.

Of course Windblade’s Camien lapdog had to follow her, and without shackles, no less! Oh, so _she _gets to kill people and gets to walk free only a few months later, but _he _murders a few mechs in back alleys to rise his way up to ruler of Cybertron, creates a secret police force, and spins lies, and _he _gets life imprisonment?

Bah…Stupid Camiens and their stupid femmes. It was wanting to avoid Cybertronians like her that made him make Bumblebee swear he would tell no one the seeker “survived” his sacrifice during their fight with Unicron. No matter how much a little part of him wished he could talk to Windblade again…

Ah, well. No use dwelling on what could be.

With a slow hum, the ship’s engines died down as it landed, Bumblebee sitting up from the berth to stand in the doorframe. He turned back to Starscream as the loading bay door opened slowly.

“Ready to get going?” he asked the seeker.

“Well I’m practically tethered to you,” Starscream sighed as he forced himself to stand as well. “Not like I have much choice.”

A brief chuckle escaped the councilmech’s lips. “Primus, Star, you make it sound like Hell.”

“I would never.” He smirked back.

The two mech’s slowly walked out of the ship towards Windblade and Chromia, the two femme’s offering warm smiles to Bumblebee as he came closer to them.

“Primus, Bumblebee, it’s been ages since you’ve last been here.” Windblade mused as she pulled the former scout into a friendly embrace.

“Yep. Just one of the great ‘perks’ I got with being New Cybertron’s representative on the Galactic Council,” the yellow mech replied sarcastically, returning his friend’s smile.

“Ha! I don’t envy you. I have it hard enough as is.”

Starscream couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit jealous of Bumblebee as he watched the two former Autobots reunite. As much as he swore he’d prefer staying as just a distant thought in the Camien’s mind, he would love nothing more than to have her acknowledge him again so he could tell her just how proud he was of her.

The “Chosen One” shook his helm of such thoughts as the other two pulled away, both of them beginning to walk back inside accompanied by Chromia.

“So, don’t keep me in suspense, Windblade,” Bumblebee asked as they stepped inside, the landing pad sharing the same floor as one of the tower’s primary engineering labs. “How’s New Cybertron been since I left?”

“We’ve been making great process, Bee,” Windblade replied with confidence as they passed various CR chambers, medical slabs, and so on. Wheeljack was even on the side, working on various machinery. “Iacon’s totally stable, economy’s been improving…We’ve even managed to lower crime rates in Kaon and the surrounding cities by 75% thanks to Chromia’s efforts.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to take all the credit for it, Ironhide’s been a really big help with reorganizing what was left over from Starscream’s Faceless enforcers,” the blue Camien added. “He’s a…great co-captain.”

How strange…Starscream could have sworn Bumblebee told him shortly after he himself had perished that that large oaf had fallen at the hands of Unicron. Unless he had a counterpart of himself on this planet, left over from when Rodimus and his crew plucked New Cybertron from the “Functionist Universe” as he and the rest of the Lost Light called it. He would ask the scout about that later for sure.

“Oh, please!” Windblade suddenly laughed as the trio stopped in front of a large glass panel, giving them a crystal clear look of the entire bright city below them. “I know it’s only going to be a matter of time before you start introducing him to everyone as your Conjunx.”

The bodyguard’s faceplates instantly turned an even more vibrant shade of blue than before, bashfully looking away from her friend out at the city. “I-It’s not like that!” She then stammered in a horrible effort to keep her composure, earning a soft chuckle from Starscream that only Bumblebee could hear. “W-Well, not yet, anyways…”

Rolling her optics playfully, the black and red femme turned her optics back towards Bumblebee.

“And how about you, Bee?” she asked him. “How are the other races on the council cooperating?”

“They’re all pretty good,” the smaller mech responded. “I’m in talks with the Voins about potentially colonizing on the more remote areas outside of Iacon, the Solstar Order’s keeping trade routes clear, and don’t get me started on the-”

The yellow councilmech’s words were cut short as once again, another pain shot through his processor, much worse than the one hours before. With a pained cry, he fell to his knees, clutching his helm like a scraplet was eating it from the inside out. The two femmes and Starscream looked at him with nothing but shock and concern on their faces.

“Bee?!” Windblade asked as she knelt down beside him, hands planting themselves on his shouders. “Bee, what’s wrong?!”

The scout’s hearing was momentarily lost by a high pitched ringing throughout his head, forcing him completely onto the floor as he shouted and writhed in agony.

“M-My head…!” he managed to get out between various pained noises, Chromia quickly taking Bumblebee into her arms immediately after.

“Chromia, get him onto a medical slab now!” Windblade said to her friend, turning her attention over to Wheeljack on the other end of the room. “Wheeljack! I need you over here!”

Starscream followed the blue femme carrying his friend closely, looking over Bumblebee with concern.

“Stay calm, Bee…” The seeker said in what he hoped was a calming tone, the smaller mech gritting his denta so hard in an effort to stifle his pained cries he had cut his lip a bit, purple energon starting to run down his chin. “After all the scrap you endured, a migraine won’t be the death of you.”

All the former scout could do was slowly look over at Starscream, his blue optics rapidly glitching on and off for a few moments before he squeezed them shut again, trying to keep himself from thrashing too much in Chromia’s arms.

By the time she had set Bumblebee down on his back, Windblade and Wheeljack had already gathered around as well, the Autobot scientist running an x-ray tool over Bee’s helm. The device stayed silent for a few moments before giving off several alarming beeps, beeps that made Wheeljack’s optics open wide in shock.

“No way…” he muttered in disbelief.

“What is it, Wheeljack?!” Windblade asked, moving behind the scientist to try and see what the tool displayed.

“I-It’s his processor…” he finally managed to spit out from behind his facemask, showing the tool’s image to Windblade. The x-ray showed the highlighted organ, it’s internal circuitry heating up rapidly, almost as if it was overworking itself. “Somehow it’s…it’s under so much stress!”

“Stress? But how?!” the red and black femme replied. “A normal Cybertronian processor is incapable of overworking itself under normal circumstances! The only time I nearly experienced that was whenever I had to directly connect to Metroplex’s mind!”

“I’m looking into that!”

Wheeljack put the tool back up to Bee’s head, Chromia now having to activate the medical slab’s limb restraints with how much he was thrashing in pain. After a few more scans, the machine beeped an answer, one that stunned the scientist once again.

“His processor…” he began to say as he read the tool’s readings. “It’s like Bee’s trying to fit a whole ‘nother Cybertronian’s processor’s worth of data in there!”

The two femmes were completely baffled by this realization, Starscream immediately starting to get nervous, kneeling down next to the pained councilmech.

“Bumblebee, you _promised _not to say anything!” He restated to him in a panicked tone, not caring at all if the level of his voice injured Bee at all.

Windblade leaned in close opposite of the seeker. “Bee, you have to tell me what’s going on!” she said in a far softer tone as Wheeljack and Chromia started to attach various wires to the former scout’s head.

“Ngghh…W-Windblade…!” He grunted as his voicebox started to now glitch out, much of his voice coming out as static.

“We need to get that extra data out of his helm, now!” Wheeljack shouted to Chromia as the two continued setting up the emergency procedure.

“Bee, you can do it!” the former Cityspeaker said encouragingly into one of his audials.

“Don’t you dare, Bumblebee!” Starscream shouted into the other, a look of absolute terror now on his face.

The yellow mech felt like his helm was going to explode from all of the noise and pain going. As much as he wanted to keep his promise to his friend, the desire to free himself of the unbearable pain triumphed above all.

“I…I-I’m sorry…St-Starscream…”

The mention of the seeker’s name drew everyone’s attention, Starscream himself standing up and shouting his frustrations to the ceiling.

“What did I just say?!” He screamed, now pacing angrily around the room.

“Wait…Did you say…Starscream?” Windblade then asked, swearing her spark skipped a beat as she heard Bumblebee mention his name.

All the smaller mech could do was weakly nod his helm, a look of anger immediately setting in on Chromia’s face.

“That slagger!” She shouted. “We need to purge him from Bee’s head! NOW!”

“No, wait! Chromia, you can’t!” Both Starscream _and _Windblade cried back.

“Why are you defending him?!” The blue Caminen said in confusion. “He’s done terrible things to the people of Cybertron! He deserves to die!”

“We wouldn’t be _alive _if it wasn’t for his sacrifice!” Windblade retorted, words that shocked Starscream even more. “Wheeljack, get a protoform ready!” She then ordered the scientist, the various cables getting ready to extract the seeker from Bumblebee’s body.

“What?!” Starscream shouted in confusion, kneeling at the former scout’s side. “Bumblebee, _what _are they going to do with a protoform?! Bumblebee!”

The machinery above him started whirring to life, the transfer device beginning to set Bee into stasis while it drained the seeker from his processor.

“Five seconds until transfer!” Wheeljack called out to the other two femmes. “Four! Three! Two! One!”

“BUMBLEBE-“

And then…There was only peace.


	2. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream awakens to a Cybertron far different from the one he last saw. However, is it one he even wishes to spend his new life on? And what does everyone think of his apparent return?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So happy to hear all of the nice reviews and comments you left on the first chapter! This fic was a blast to write, being my first one in five years, and I'm glad I made such a good first impression! Anyway, this chapter has a pic halfway through of a particular scene that was created by amazing artist MidnightRaid! Check out their Twitter here: https://twitter.com/_MidnightRaid_

Cold.

It was the first thing Starscream felt as his optics came online after Primus knows how long. He had been in an endless sea of absolute nothingness for as long as he could remember. Wait…

Since when was he able to “feel” anything?

The cold, the intense friction he felt in his servos as he tried to flail his arms about...

He could feel it all.

With optics now properly recalibrated with time, Starscream saw he was suspended in some kind of pod. Some bright turquoise liquid filled it, the fluids nearly freezing his joints in place with how cold it was, but at the same time it felt oddly pleasant. How did he get himself into this predicament?

What was the last thing he remembered? He could’ve sworn not too long ago, he and Bumblebee had returned to Cybertron to talk to Windblade…Yes, that certainly did happen. Then the poor mech started to have those processor problems, which prompted both femmes to have Wheeljack hook him up to discover…

Oh, right. They found out about _him. _

Starscream should have known better, though. It was pointless to actually believe Bumblebee would be able to keep the secret of his (partial) survival from the Unicron disaster to himself forever. He just hoped it would be several millennia from now…

The seeker barely had any more time left to ponder his current predicament before a soft alarm started to ring out. Optics darting around, Starscream could see in front of him the side of whatever pod he was in was see-through. Pressing himself against the glass as best as he could, he was able to partially make out his surroundings. Some other pods, machinery and other technical equipment alike…It would stand to reason he was still in that lab. Though he couldn’t see Bee, Windblade, or _anyone _for that matter around.

“Subject 1 awakening,” an automated voice Starscream assumed to be the pod that currently held him announced to no one in particular. “Draining CR chamber”

Before he knew it, a drain opened up on the bottom of his pod, slowly starting to empty the fluid he was suspended in. By the time his helm was free, Starscream started gasping, the feeling of air entering his intake an alien feeling he felt he had not done in years.

The tank didn’t drain down to his knee joints before the glass panel in front of him suddenly opened, Starscream stumbling out of the tank and falling right on his face. _Hard. _He could’ve sworn he heard some part of his face dent a bit from the feeling. It was only confirmed when he felt energon drip out of his nasal ridge and slick his lips.

“Ngh, fr-frag…” He groaned as he laid there soaking wet in a puddle of restoration fluid.

His optics opened wider however as his audials picked up on the voice that just came out of his throat. It…It sounded different. But at the same time…familiar.

And not to mention that for the first time since he…well, _died, _Starscream actually felt _pain _if the dented nasal ridge was any indication.

What the frag was going on?

“Was…Was that…_My _voice…?” he asked himself as he finally managed to at least gather the strength to push himself up enough to get his face out of the puddle he was still laying in. And the sight he had seen shook Starscream to the very real spark beating inside his chest.

In the puddle’s reflection was a body he had though he would never see again. A reflection of himself.

His _true self. _

The purple optics looking back at him, the blue armor highlighted in dashes of white and red, not to mention the various kibble and wings that were proof of his alt-mode being that of Cybertronian origin…Despite the brief time he had spent in this “form” while he was battling Vigilem with Windblade inside her own mind, the way he felt right now was the exact same he had felt all that time ago.

Starscream had found a body he finally felt comfortable in.

“I…I can’t believe this…” he muttered again as he forced himself up more to sit properly on his aft, resting with his back against the side of the pod as he raised his servos to look them over. “My body…The one I would have if I was forged…Did Windblade…?”

Starscream recalled Windblade mentioning a protoform transfer right before they put Bumblebee into a forced stasis as he continued to carefully observe his black, blunt servos, watching closely how the lights hanging from the ceiling showed off the near pristine shine of his blue wrist gaurds, not to mention the red highlights he had there and on his lower leg armor.

Is this what Windblade meant? To give him the body he should have had since birth?

The seeker wasn’t sure what he should’ve been feeling in that moment. Gratitude? Appreciation?

Guilt?

There was no way he was worthy of this second chance at life. Not with all the atrocities he had done as both Megatron’s second in command and as ruler of Cybertron. Surely Windblade had to have made a mistake in bringing him back. If anyone should have been brought back it should’ve been Metalhawk. The poor mech did nothing wrong and Starscream went ahead and killed him regardless.

But, if he really was this lucky…If Windblade herself truly believed that he was worthy of another go, then he would make damn sure she wouldn’t regret it.

After inspecting himself thoroughly, Starscream decided to try again at moving around. He couldn’t just sit around in his own tank’s fluids until some poor mech or femme found him like this. With a grunt of exertion, one servo reaching up to grab the top of his pod, the seeker managed to pull himself up into a standing position. His pedes still felt unstable though, managing to stumble over to a nearby wall to use for support until they were completely recalibrated.

The room was still devoid of any other life, only the whirrs and beeps of various machinery echoing off the walls as Starscream tried to find a way out. He had to find Windblade. Surely she could fill him in as to what was going on exactly.

Optics scanning the room, he looked to see if the general layout had stayed the same since his time as ruler. Fortunately for Starscream it had, spotting an elevator just on the other end of the room. Perfect. He could use that to take him straight to what was formerly his office, now most likely Windblade’s. If she wasn’t there, hopefully she didn’t change his access codes so he could at least wait there for her.

Slowly feeling his pedes reach peak optimization as he walked, Starscream pushed himself away from the wall to now walk more properly to the elevator doors, still having a small limp in his step.

With a sigh of relief upon reaching the door, his digit found its way to the elevator’s panel to call the lift down.

“Damned CR chambers…” Starscream muttered to himself as he waited for the elevator to arrive, optics looking down to observe the progress on his still recovering pedes. “I swear, with my luck, someone will rip my spark out before this body finishes.”

The ding of the elevator doors snapped the seeker’s optics to face the door, idly wiping some energon off his face from his prior injury as he waited for said doors to open.

He could’ve sworn his spark sank when they finally did, the occupant inside the elevator looking just as shocked as he was.

“Ch-Chromia?!”

The Camien didn’t waste a second before pulling Starscream into the elevator with her, pushing him against the back wall so easily and pressing the blade of her energon axe immediately to his throat.

Talk about warm welcomes…

“Ngh! E-Easy there…!” Starscream tried to reason, wincing as he felt the hot blade against the exposed protoform on his neck.

“What are you doing wandering around?!” Chromia spat back at the seeker, the elevator doors closing behind her as she did. “You get one of your ‘Con buddies to let you out?!”

“W-Will you just stop with the semantics?! The damn pod just emptied itself! A-And how would anyone be able to break me out when no one knows I’m even alive?!”

The blue warrior kept her optics on Starscream for a few more moments before pulling the axe away from his neck, deactivating the blade soon after.

“Primus, you’re a real mess right now, aren’t you?” She asked as she holstered the hilt of her weapon at her side, pointing out the energon still dripping from his nasal ridge on top of the CR chamber fluid occasionally dripping off his frame.

“Oh, do pardon me,” Starscream said sarcastically as he wiped his face again, grimacing at the purple stains on his servo now. “I barely had any time to make myself presentable for your audience.”

Chromia took a deep, exasperated sigh in response. “I have no idea what Windblade saw in you to warrant this.”

“Well, Chromia, that makes two of us.” the seeker said in agreement.

The mech’s comment took her by surprise.

“Wait…You’re serious?” She asked in bewilderment as she inputted Windblade’s office floor number into the elevator’s control panel.

“Oh yes,” Starscream confirmed. “I made that little yellow pest swear that he wouldn’t let you, Windblade, or anyone else know that I had been trapped inside his head. But of course, his poor little processor clearly couldn’t handle holding my vast and enormous conscience.”

“Would you _please _stop self-aggrandizing for one second?” Chromia groaned as the elevator began its rapid ascent to the tower’s higher levels, where Windblade’s office was located. “Ugh, I already had enough of it for _one _lifetime…”

“If it means I won’t get another axe against my throat, by all means…But, one last thing…Whatever _did _happen to Bumblebee?” he asked with what sounded surprisingly to the Camien, like a hint of concern in his voice. “Surely, Wheeljack didn’t end up frying his processor in the process of extracting me.”

“He’s fine,” she replied. “He was in stasis for a few days after the operation, but that was a while ago anyway. He’s actually coming back here from another council meeting later today.”

“And…Does he know about me? That I’m well…I mean, this body, or, operation, whatever you want to call it…does he know that I’m here, right now?”

“As far as he and Windblade know, you’re still sleeping in that pod downstairs. Truth be told, we didn’t expect you to wake up for another few weeks or so. Wheeljack said that’s how long the tests would take.”

Starscream’s brow furrowed in confusion at the words that escaped Chromia’s lips.

“Tests?” He asked her with what he hoped sounded like an insulted tone. “What exactly do you mean by that? How long have I been in that damn pod for?”

“Well, you’ve…You’ve been in there for almost five Earth years now.” The blue femme said to the seeker, who’s optics opened wide upon the realization.

“Five years?!” Starscream shouted as if he was an angry parrot. “What fragging tests were you all running on me to keep me in there for that long?! I thought it had only been a few months!”

“Will you shut up and let me explain?” Chromia retorted in an annoyed tone. “After your er, death involving the talisman, we weren’t sure if you weren’t…corrupted, so to speak.”

“Corrupted? What the frag does _that _mean?!”

“It means that whatever the Talisman did to you, what _Unicron _could’ve done to you…Wheeljack wanted to make sure your body wouldn’t suffer from any potential side effects.”

“Primus, I swear, Cybertronians have gotten far more paranoid than I last remembered. Far more than those detestable humans even.”

The sound in the elevator went quiet as the conversation between the two died down, only the soft hum of the lift rapidly ascending towards Windblade’s office filling the small space they were in.

Starscream took the time to watch the floor indicator rise rapidly, anything to keep his thoughts elsewhere.

Because in that moment, the thought of finally facing her after so many years filled the seeker’s spark with a painful throb of anxiety.

What would he even say to her after all this time? Should he play his recent resurrection off as only a minor inconvenience and hide behind that slag-eating grin of his as usual? No, of course not…She would know he was covering his unease almost instantly. But surely he couldn’t just open up to her, right? Say how nice it is to see one of the few Cybertronians he truly considered a friend still alive and leading her people into (hopefully) a new era of peace and prosperity? No, that would be too easy…right? He couldn’t show weakness, even to her…But after all they had been through, couldn’t he trust her enough to let that guard down around her?

Starscream didn’t even have enough time to make up his mind on what to do before the elevator dinged to signal his and Chromia’s arrival at her office, his optics immediately laying their sight on the doors as they opened.

He could have sworn his spark skipped a beat as he saw Windblade there at his desk. _Her _desk now. She was so in focus at that moment, optics focused on a datapad she was currently reading. What she was reading, Starscream could care less about, right now more concerned the fact that his whole frame felt like it was locking up from shock, only capable of staring at the femme who sat only a few feet away from him, still seemingly unaware of his presence.

Chromia looked at the seeker for a moment to see his reaction, rolling her optics in annoyance as she stepped in front of him to head towards the black and red Camien.

“Windblade?” She called out to her, causing the other femme to look up at her friend and away from the datapad.

“What is it, Chromia?” She asked in a somewhat rushed tone, holding optic contact for only a moment before looking back down to scroll through the datapad. It looked like she was quite inundated with whatever she was reading. “Any progress on you know what?” she then said without her optics leaving the tablet’s screen.

Looking back over to Starscream, still frozen in the elevator in what easily could have looked like a trance or some other form of hypnosis to anyone else, Chromia grabbed the mech’s wrist, pulling both him closer to her and a small yelp of surprise as he stumbled forward to her side.

“See for yourself.” She then said with a huff of exertion.

Windblade could only sigh in an irritated manner, setting the datapad to her side on the desk and slowly raising her helm up.

“Chromia, what are you talking abou-“

Her optics went wide immediately upon seeing Starscream, a similar look of shock on her face to that of the seeker standing right in front of her. No words were even spoken between the two as the black and red flyer slowly stood to her pedes, walking around her desk to be in front of the seeker.

Like the blue and red mech that stood before her, Windblade was at a complete loss for words as her cyan optics stayed locked on his dark purple ones. This only made Starscream’s spark beat even faster out of fear, feeling like he was going to shatter from merely the immense stress he felt in that moment alone if neither of them said anything in the next few moments.

Fortunately for him, Windblade decided to finally break the ice.

“Starscream…” She muttered softly to him, her voice clearly trembling with disbelief. “Is…Is it really you…?”

Those little words only shook the seeker to his core even more than her presence did. He barely had the strength (or ability) to form his own words to respond to her. So many thoughts and emotions surged through Starscream in that moment, it was a miracle he was able to get the next words spoken out of his mouth, stammer or no stammer.

“I-I…I…I suppose I am…”

Hearing the mech’s new, but still familiar voice was apparently enough for Windblade, not even wasting a second longer before she suddenly wrapped her arms around Starscream’s torso and pulled him into a surprisingly strong embrace, an act that shocked both Chromia _and _Starscream, his wings perking straight up like a startled bird.

What…What was she doing?

He had never been hugged before. To be honest, he had never received _any _affection like this before. At least, not from anyone besides times when Thundercracker would hound him with said affection when he least desired it.

But now, with the way her arms wrapped around him, her face resting comfortably atop his shoulder, and the _beat of her spark _against his…it wasn’t long before a small tint of purple made itself apparent on his faceplates.

He liked this. He liked this _a lot._

To know that the femme he had valued above all others seemed to still value and respect him after all this time, maybe even considering him to still be her _friend…_it made Starscream’s spark throb with a happiness he hadn’t felt in a long, _long _time.

Frozen like that with his servos still up as if he was for whatever fragged up reason _uncomfortable _with this, Starscream decided to slowly correct this by resting them on Windblade’s upper back in response, an act that he swore caused the Camien’s wings to flutter in pleasure for what seemed like the tiniest, briefest of moments.

Starscream’s spark was beating harder than it had ever before in that moment. This feeling he had throughout his frame, the warmth he felt from her frame pressed against his, her _spark _beating against his…He wished he could stay in this moment for the rest of time.

Alas, this bliss had to come to an end. After what had felt like an eternity, but in reality was not even a minute, Windblade pulled away, the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

“I…I never thought I would see you again…” She managed to say to the mech, disbelief still apparent in her voice.

“Y-Yes, well…I guess you thought wrong then.” Starscream replied, the initial terror he felt upon seeing her rapidly fading away thanks to their prior interaction.

The air between the two of them went silent once again after that, Chromia clearing her throat to to get her friend’s attention.

“Windblade? Are you alright?” She asked with a slightly concerned tone.

Shaking her helm to bring herself out of her trance, Cybertron’s ruler looked back at her.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine.” She reassured the blue femme. “Just getting the...the initial shock off, that’s all.”

Her optics shifted back to Starscream for a bit before she turned back to Chromia.

“Can you give us some time to…to talk, please?” Windblade asked her. “I should probably bring him up to speed on everything.”

“Windblade, you…you can’t be serious!” The blue Camien said in shock before turning to Starscream. “You seriously want me to leave you alone in a room with _him_? The same mech who admitted to _assassinating _a NAIL?!”

“Chromia, I’ll be fine, I promise you,” Windblade reassured her. “Starscream doesn’t have any weapons currently stored on or in his frame.”

“And as if I would waste my second chance at life strangling the femme who gave med said chance in the first place…” Starscream added with scoff, his optics looking to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I…Fine.” Chromia sighed in defeat, turning her back to the other two to head to the elevator.

She stopped as she passed Starscream, giving what she hoped would be a threatening stare at the seeker. He responded in kind with a sly smirk of his own, causing her to groan again and walk back into the elevator, the doors quickly closing shut soon after.

With the Camien warrior out of the room, Windblade sighed in relief, looking back up at Starscream and frowning a bit upon seeing his face. In response, she brought a servo up to his cheek, an action that the seeker was once again shocked by.

Her touch…it was so soft. So…comforting…

He tensed up at first upon feeling her touch; if anyone usually raised a servo to his face it had almost always been a punch or other painful gesture. Any abuse for that matter. To finally feel something that _wasn’t _abuse…It was a completely foreign feeling. A feeling he very much enjoyed as time went on.

“Your nasal ridge…Chromia didn’t do that to you, did she?” Windblade asked as her thumb brushed over the dented protrusion, causing Starscream’s brow to furrow briefly.

“I-I assure you, it wasn’t her,” he replied, shaking off initial shock. “I managed to make quite an impression on the floor once that pod you, her, or whoever put me in there opened.”

A soft giggle escaped the black and red Camien’s intake. The sound of it made Starscream feel like his insides were doing a somersault. She had one of the most adorable laughs of anyone he had ever known. Why didn’t she do it more?

“I didn’t take you for the clumsy type, Starscream.” She then said, letting her servo fall back down to her side and backing up to lean against her desk.

“Bah. I’d hardly say that.” He scoffed as his optics finally took the time to look around his former office, making note of its pristine quality amongst other things. He took particular notice in what he assumed were various Camien artifacts amongst her shelves, the hilt of her Stormfall Sword propped nicely on a stand in the middle.

“Well, I suppose I should get the obvious question out of the way…” The seeker continued, turning his attention back to Windblade. “You haven’t managed to throw Earth into chaos yet, have you?”

“No, Earth relations are going pretty well, actually,” she responded. “Your trine’s actually making quite the name for themselves.”

“That so?” He said with an amused tone, crossing his arms over his chest again. “Care to indulge me in how a newly proclaimed pacifist and a recon expert gained more notoriety than yours truly?”

“Primus, you’re still as vain as always.”

“It _is _one of my redeeming qualities.”

Windblade only made a small huff in response. “Thundercracker’s becoming a pretty renowned director and screenwriter on Earth. I…wouldn’t call them _huge _successes, but he’s helping a lot with making human/Cybertronian relations easier.”

Ah, right. Thundercracker…Starscream couldn’t forget how the blue seeker hounded him while he was making that movie about himself he commissioned from him. Nosey fragger…He hoped the movie didn’t ruin his image to the humans _that _much…

“Eugh, don’t expect me to be at any of his premieres anytime soon…” He responded with a disgusted sound, face sneering at the thought of seeing him again.

“He’s trying his best,” Windblade replied. “You should really think about reaching out to him sometime. He still cares about you.”

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment, Windblade. I really do,” Starscream groaned, his voice starting to get louder as he got more irritated. “But I’ll tell you the same thing I told Bumblebee before you decided to pluck me out of his head; the last thing I want to do, is to let the _entire universe _know that I, _Starscream, _the same Starscream who backstabbed and manipulated his way to become ruler of Cybertron, the _same _Starscream who need I remind you physically _and _mentally abused _you _and nearly anyone else who tried to get close to me, and the _SAME STARSCREAM, _who never gave a _scrap _about anyone else but himself is still alive!!”

The seeker was seething with what could only be described as tangible irritation on his face, his denta gritting together to show off his fangs as he glared at Windblade, the femme actually stepping back a few paces out of concern for her own safety.

And seeing this absolutely crushed Starscream’s spark.

The last thing he wanted was to make Windblade feel anything negative towards him again. He was starting to let his old tendencies come back, bits and pieces of the old Starscream, the one who put so many barriers up in front of him people could barely connect with him on a personal level no matter how hard they tried. And the fact that he did this to Windblade, a femme he actually _wanted _to learn to be close to him…

He wished he could take it all back.

An intense look of regret on Starscream’s face, he slowly approached the Camien with his arms stretched out in a forgiving manner, the black and red femme’s optics locked onto his the whole time.

“W-Windblade, I…”

He didn’t have time to get any other words out before the doors to her office slammed open, a somewhat shorter navy blue mech with white highlights stumbling in. He had a blue visor over his optics and sported a rather average grounder build. Along with that, a small surveillance drone floated right beside his head, currently aimed at the other two.

“E-Excuse me, but did I hear that right?!” The mech said in what clearly sounded like a still shocked tone. “First D-Delegate Windblade…Is the mech right here in the room with you really _the _Starscream?! The same Starscream who was reported dead after the Unicron Crisis?!”

Both Starscream and Windblade’s optics widened in fear in response.

“Ch-Chronicle!” The femme finally managed to blurt out in anger, the overall shock of the interruption still coursing through her frame. “I said I would call for you when I was ready for the interview!”

“W-Well, yes, but I was just waiting outside, and I heard the arguing s-so I thought that I might as well come in to ask-”

“When I say to wait outside, I mean to _wait outside_!”

“But s-since I’m here…Is _that _actually Starscream?”

“What am I, an object?” The seeker in question responded in an offended tone, the familiarity of it absolutely shocking the reporter. “I’m just as much of a living Cybertronian as you are.”

“O-Oh, Primus…It..It really is you…”

Windblade could only briefly turn around to glare at Starscream before bringing her attention back to Chronicle, beginning to push him out of her office.

“Okay, this is enough!” She said as she walked him out. “I’m not answering anything right now. I’ll be giving an official statement on this matter by the end of the day. Now get out!” She huffed before tossing him out and slamming the doors shut on him, making sure they were locked once they were.

Windblade turned around so her back faced the doors, wings folding up a bit as she laid against it before letting out an elongated groan, covering her face with her servos.

“This scrap wouldn’t happen if Rattrap was here…” She muttered to herself. “I’m going to kill him when he comes back.

Ah, right. Starscream remembered Rattrap; that tiny, nosey…well, rat, for a lack of better terms.

“I was about to say…” He then responded, leaning against Windblade’s desk as he groaned too. “Where is the little piece of slag anyway? Figured I’d see him running around as your errand boy now.”

“I have no idea. He’s been gone for a few days now after I sent him into New Kaon for some duties. Haven’t heard back from him since, but Primus knows what he’s probably up to knowing all the scrap he did for you…”

“And what of that reporter, eh?” Starscream asked, praying internally that no sane mech would take his words seriously and that his drone was not recording _any _of their conversation. “What was that whole deal about?”

“That…That was Chronicle.” The Camien replied. “He’s a reporter for Iacon’s news broadcast station. He was _supposed _to come over for an interview on how I was hoping to improve…relations with the already existing population of New Cybertron that were here before all of us survivors settled in.”

“What? I could have sworn you said that peace was _specifically _at an all-time high with Bumblebee all those years ago.”

“That’s because it had only been a _year _since Unicron…Most of us were still living on Earth, and after that when we made the push to immigrate more back to here…The culture clash between what _our _Cybertron was like compared to theirs has been sparking a lot of conflict lately.”

Windblade sighed before unlocking her office doors. “I…I should go prepare for this announcement,” She sighed before opening them and starting to walk out as she briefly turned back to Starscream. “Just…Go back down to the labs. I’ll have Chromia get you when the speech is about to start.”

Starscream couldn’t find the words to reply with, leaving Windblade with a confused look on his faceplates as she walked out, the doors sliding shut behind her quickly.

With a sigh of defeat, Starscream took the time to wander over to the glass window view of Iacon on the other side of the office, his optics gazing out upon the vast city that laid out in front of him. It was so incredible, so…alive. Far more than the pathetic city of a titan he had ruled over back on his own Cybertron several years prior.

He didn’t envy Windblade’s position at all; keeping everyone happy, trying to stop them from tearing each other apart on the streets…Part of him was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of stress anymore.

Now he only had to worry about wether or not this crowd of mixed former Functionists and survivors of the original Cybertron didn’t want to tear _him _apart when Windblade broke the news to them.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gathered right in the front of the capital tower was a massive crowd of Cybertronians, ranging from all various colonies and universes; Functionists, Cybertronians, Camiens, Velocitronians, and even Lunarians.

Had Starscream not been used to crowds of this size courtesy of his own reign as ruler, he might have actually been a bit nervous as he stood on a stage constructed for him alongside Windblade, Chromia, and various other mechs the seeker surmised as protection for the First Delegate and himself. Among them, Starscream could clearly make out the burly red frame of Ironhide standing beside Chromia.

The seeker had to do a double take upon seeing him; while his own Ironhide had perished towards the end of the cataclysmic battle with Unicron, this mech stood right beside him looking exactly like the Ironhide he had remembered battling over several battlegrounds throughout the Great War many millennia ago.

As his optics gazed out into the crowd, none of them any the wiser of who exactly they were seeing stand on stage other than an arguably handsome, freshly polished blue and red seeker, his attention was brought back to Windblade as he heard the Camien clear her throat, echoing a bit on the microphone in front of her, and playing through several thousands of speakers placed around the city. Electronic billboards focused on her face lit up on the sides of many buildings as she began to speak.

“People of New Cybertron,” her voiced projected down the massive crowd through the speakers, the power and conviction in her voice making Starscream the tiniest bit more proud of her. “I am sure you are aware of rumors that may have been spreading in the past few hours. Rumors that say my predecessor, Starscream, is alive and well despite his death having been confirmed shortly after Unicron was destroyed.”

She then gestured over to the seeker in question, who, with a regretful sigh, decided to step forward and join Windblade at the side of her podium.

“As a way of showing my honesty, I am here today to announce that this mech you see standing beside me today…Is in fact former ruler Starscream.”

What felt like a massive, collective gasp of shock from the crowd then sounded, many mumbling to themselves and those around them, while a smaller percentage actually began to shout in anger, the many former Badgeless officers standing at the ready amongst the crowd to act if any of them took to extreme measures.

“I know you all have many questions as to why he is standing here before us today,” Windblade continued. “Rest assured, I intend to answer them all. Five years ago, my chief scientist Wheeljack had observed that our representative on the Galactic Council, Bumblebee, was on the verge of death as a result of immense cranial stress brought about by holding Starscream’s conscience in his processor. Acting quickly, I made the decision to have Starscream removed through an operation, and have his data transferred into a new protoform that you all now see before you. Until today, he has undergone rigorous tests in a CR chamber to ensure that neither his spark, nor processor data, was corrupted in any way by Unicron in order to ensure he would not be an accidental threat to any resident of New Cybertron or himself. Now, I am sure you are also wondering why he is standing out here today, and not currently in a prison cell as he was before…”

The Camien gave brief optic contact with Starscream before turning her attention back to the crowd in front of her.

“I am not one to easily forget about all of the horrendous acts he had admitted to committing as ruler of Cybertron, chief among them the murder of former NAIL, Metalhawk. However, I also have to acknowledge the fact that he was willing to sacrifice his life to ensure us, as a race, would continue to exist and thrive. And while it may not completely erase the acts he has done in the past…I believe it is on the right track. And that is why I am here today to announce to you that from this day on…Starscream will be serving a sentence of five millenia on parole…while he serves as my new political advisor.”

This sudden announcement earned a collective wave of shock and confusion from nearly the _entire _crowd this time, Starscream included.

“_What?!_” The seeker squawked at Windblade in an infuriating wave of confusion. “I never agreed to _any _of-!”

Hi ranting was interrupted suddenly by the femme’s left servo quickly covering up his mouth. “Thank you all for your time!” She shouted back to the crowd. “Rest assured, New Cybertron is not in any danger from Starscream! I will be monitoring him closely as the two of us will work to help make this planet a home for all mecha and femme alike!”

With her rushed ending complete, Windblade hurried off the stage accompanied by Starscream, Chromia, and a few other guards, the crowd behind them only left to converse with each other in absolute confusion as to what this meant for New Cybertron’s future.

Despite all the chaos around them, whether it be Chromia rushing the two back inside, or the cacophony of various reporters and other civilians trying to make sense of what had just happened, Starscream barely payed any of it any mind.

Because nothing bothered him more than the chill he felt throughout his frame upon hearing of this new alliance Windblade had just announced.

Starscream was absolutely terrified of whatever would come next. And for the second time that day, he was cold.


	3. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream reacts to the aftermath of Windblade's sudden announcement. When alone, Bumblebee returns, suggesting the two of them spend the night at Maccadam's in an effort to help Starscream relax. What happens by the time he leaves does the exact opposite of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is out a little late today, classes have started back up and I've been busy! Good news is though after today, the last 3 chapters will be out next week! 4 will be released next Monday, 5 a week from today, and 6 next Friday! Once again, thank you all for your support so far with this fic. I love reading all your comments! Hope you enjoy this one, because it's a doozy!

Sick.

It’s all Starscream could describe himself feeling after hearing what Windblade had announced a that press conference. Seriously? She _actually _expected him to be okay with this? Where would she _ever _get that idea?!

In the few moments that followed that reveal, the seeker felt like he was going to purge his tanks any second now with all of the stress that instantly began to pile up inside of him, specifically in his stomach. And in due time, that stress turned into one of the few emotions Starscream was actually good at projecting.

Anger.

“What gave you the right to say that?!” Starscream sneered to Windblade as the two of them were quickly ushered back inside the tower by Chromia and other guards, several reporters and film crews trying their best to follow them. “I had _no interest _in pursuing politics again!”

“And what, you want me to tell a planet who at least 45% of its population wants you dead that you’re going to get off scot-free?” The First Delegate retorted. “How well do you think _that _would go? This was the best I could do!”

“Ugh, at this rate, you may as well just kill me now. No telling when some psycho who has datapads of my face on his wall will jump me…”

“That’s enough out of you…” Chromia interjected with a stern tone, pushing Starscream forward a bit roughly into an elevator that the three of them piled into. “Windblade did the best she could. Be fragging grateful for once.”

“Oh yes, because I am _soooooo_ grateful to be back to doing this!”

“Starscream, that’s _enough_!” Windblade suddenly shouted as the elevator doors closed, beginning its rapid ascent towards an unknown destination.

The unexpected interruption from the femme immediately drew the attention of the other two, their optics focused on her as her lips twitched rapidly. It was almost as if she was trying to say something, but couldn’t exactly find the right words to express her feelings.

After enough time of this uncomfortable silence, Windblade took a deep sigh, her optics fluttering shut for the briefest of moments as the elevator stopped on the same floor as her office. The elevator doors shot open instantly, the three Cybertronians standing just a bit outside of those large, familiar doors.

“I just…I don’t need _this _right now,” She sighed, pinching her nasal ridge in annoyance. “Between nearly all the former Functionists up in arms over our expansion projects and you, I can’t deal with all of this alone…”

Starscream could swear his spark throbbed with guilt upon hearing her words. It made him feel absolutely miserable. Probably as much as Windblade felt right now.

“That’s…That’s why I said you would be my advisor at the announcement…” She continued. “Because the truth is…I just can’t do this all alone.”

Wonderful. Now he went and twisted the knife further in his own spark. He just _always _had to make things about himself, didn’t he? Just voice all of his complaints and not give a scrap about anyone else’s opinions…After all, did he _really _care what anyone else thought of him?

He probably didn’t.

Except for her.

Trembling a bit, Starscream found himself seemingly of his own volition, raising his right servo and moving it in towards Windblade’s left shoulder. This…This never happened before.

Did he _actually _want to comfort her? Willingly?

“W-Windblade, I’m so-“

“No.”

That one, short word the black and red Camien blurted out had pierced Starscream’s spark harder than probably any plasma rifle or energon blade ever could. In an instant his body tensed up, arm immediately dropping back to his side as his wings drooped ever so slightly. Not enough to totally show how shocked and saddened he was by her response, but still a bit nonetheless.

“I-I’m, sorry, Starscream, but I just need some time to myself right now,” She then explained as she sighed deeply again, her wings fluttering just a bit. “Bumblebee should be arriving anytime soon and I need to go bring him up to speed on everything that’s happened since he last visited.”

Her optics then darted to her blue friend.

“Chromia, can you let him into my office so he can wait there?” Windblade asked her. “I’ll send Bee down once I’m done with him.”

“Of course,” She replied, Starscream grunting a bit in pain as he felt the Camien warrior squeeze his left wrist with just a bit too much strength and pull him out of the elevator with her. “Take all the time you need.”

Forcing a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless, Windblade looked back at the two as Chromia led Starscream into the other femme’s office, the elevator doors snapping shut soon after.

The blue warrior didn’t even hesitate when she then threw her right fist into the seeker’s cheek, a small spittle of energon spraying on the floor as Starscream was knocked flat on his aft from the force of it.

“Ngh…A-Alright, I deserve that…” he groaned as he rubbed where Chromia’s fist had struck his faceplates, said area a bit scuffed from the punch.

“You think?!” the Camien yelled angrily. “Could you think about maybe being grateful for _once _in your life?! Oh, I’m sorry, your _second _life, since you so royally fragged up doing that in your first one!”

“I never _asked _for this life…” Starscream growled softly under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, I never asked for this!” He shouted at her, standing up completely despite the somewhat dizzying pain in his helm. “You think I have some kind of angle here? Some ‘grand scheme’ to get back my position as ruler of Cybertron? Well I _hate _to ruin the surprise, but there is NO SCHEME!! I’m not building up an underground syndicate of former ‘Cons to serve me, I’m not planning to murder Windblade in her sleep, I’m just a dead mech walking who for _whatever _reason earned a second chance at life that I _do not want_!!”

The blue and red mech’s EM field was practically burning red with fury, his purple optics slanted in an enraged glare so intense that it even unnerved Chromia a slight amount.

“I was just _fine _staying inside Bumblebee’s processor,” Starscream then hissed, slowly stalking closer to the femme across from him. “No one else knew I existed. I had no responsibilities, no worries, a mech I could _almost _consider a friend to talk to for all eternity…But then your ‘First Delegate’ thought it would best to bring me right back into the spotlight for _everyone _to judge me for my past actions under the excuse that ‘she needs me’…Bah! She’s done well enough without me. I’d be better off dead than here right now…”

Starscream’s optics darted to the side of his pedes as he stared at the floor, specifically at the splatter of his own energon that Chromia had spilled. He was only standing just a few inches away from the blue Camien, only the slightest bit taller than her as he seemed at a loss for words now.

Chromia however, was anything but.

“No.”

Starscream’s head slowly raised up, his optics now fixated on hers.

“What?”

He was answered with a harsh shove back to the center of the room, just barely able to keep himself from falling back over.

“No. You don’t get the _right _to feel like that,” She spat back, her denta gnashed together in an angry snarl. “I am _sick _of you always making things about yourself! If it was up to me? Yeah, I would have _gladly _erased you when you were pulled out of Bumblebee’s head. But that’s not what Windblade wanted. For whatever reason I’m unaware of right now, she thinks you’re worthy of a second chance. And despite what you may think about yourself, the fact of the matter is that she _does _need you. So pull yourself together, quit feeling sorry for yourself, and be the mech she needs right now.”

Starscream’s optics widened as Chromia lectured him. She had been absolutely right; it was partly this reason why he didn’t want to come back in the first place. All he ever did was hurt the people that tried to get close to him. But if Windblade was truly _this _sure of him, that he could truly _help _her…Well, maybe it was worth it to try and make the most out of this new life. For her.

“Alright…Alright, I’ll do it,” the seeker sighed in his usual sarcastic tone, trying not to sound like he had been so easily swayed by the Camien. “Only because she’s the only fragging person in this whole universe who’s opinion I give a slag about…”

“Fine by me. But make no mistake…”

Chromia then quickly closed the distance between the two of them. Her face so close, Starscream could feel her hot exvents against his lips. “If you _ever _think about hurting her like that again…I’ll do much worse than just a punch to the face.”

Their optics stayed locked for just a few more brief moments before she turned around and began to walk out of the office.

“Yes, sir…” Starscream replied sarcastically as the doors closed behind Chromia, the seeker sighing softly once he was alone.

Optics darting around the room just for a bit, he ultimately decided to walk over to Windblade’s desk, _his _old desk. Hesitating for a moment as he looked at the chair he had been all too familiar with, he took a deep exvent before slowly sitting down it.

While initially tense, Starscream quickly relaxed into the chair’s feeling he had long grown accustomed too. In all honesty, he was surprised Windblade had chosen such a chair; it was based off a rather old Vos piece he had bought for himself on the original Cybertron, and the dark, brooding color of it he knew for sure wasn’t exactly that suited for a Camien like her. In a way, he was rather flattered to know that she had decided to purchase a replica of his choices.

Perhaps Starscream should try and get some rest. It had been a rather hectic first day of life. Primus knows when he would get a chance like this to rest his optics and not deal with any political slag.

Slowly closing his optics, the blue and red mech sighed and did exactly that.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Said R&R was very brief however as he was disturbed by a soft knocking sound from the office door.

Groaning as his optics reset, his internal clock showing he had managed only barely an hour of recharge. His helm twisted over to the door, forcing himself to get up and walk over to it.

“I swear, if this is another one of those damned reporters…” Starscream began to mumble as he started to unlock the door. “I promise I will personally throw you out of this-“

His face turned from one of annoyance to surprise as he pushed said door open, the short, yellow mech with that familiar, wide smile in front of him giving the seeker an oddly comforting feeling in his body.

A feeling like he had not seen an old friend in nearly a lifetime.

Friend…Huh.

“You know, I expected you’d be shorter,” Bumblebee said with a smirk as he walked in. “Thought Windblade would want to finally be taller than you.”

Starscream couldn’t help the small grin on his face as he closed the doors behind him.

“She couldn’t be that petty if her life depended on it,” he replied. “That level of pettiness is one a bot spends countless millennia building up to anyway.”

“Yeah, good to see you too, Starscream.” The former scout chuckled as he sat down on a couch at the side of the office, giving him a perfect view as the sun was beginning to set on New Cybertron’s horizon.

Starscream sat beside him, staring out and admiring the sight for a few moments before speaking up again.

“In all seriousness though, I’m…actually happy to see you’re doing well.” He sighed, the comment taking Bumblebee by surprise.

“Woah..Well, uh…Thanks,” he finally managed to say after struggling to find words. “I’m…pretty glad you’re alright too.”

“Bah, not the way I’d put it…”

“Is this about what happened today with Windblade? She told me bits and pieces, but I can tell she’s kinda hesitant about other details.”

“Something like that,” Starscream groaned. “But if I’m honest, I’m _far _too sober to be spilling every depressed thought out of my processor.”

Bumblebee frowned at his friend’s words. Despite the apparent success of his operation and the second life Starscream got out of it, he could tell the seeker was anything but happy with his current circumstances.

His bright blue optics scanned Starscream’s face as he looked out over the city, noticing the dent on his cheek he had received earlier.

“That, uh…mark on your face wasn’t from her, right?” He asked hesitantly, somewhat regretting the question after he got it out.

“No, it wasn’t,” Starscream answered, purple optics still looking over the beautiful orange tint of the sky. “And for your information, I’m really not in the mood to talk about her right now.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I won’t pressure you.”

The red and blue mech only gave an indifferent grunt in response. Bee knew something was up with him; sitting alone in this office sulking about wouldn’t give him any more answers, or help make Starscream feel better.

“You know what?” the councilmech finally said to the other beside him, standing up to walk in front of him. “How about we go for a few drinks at Maccadam’s? My treat.”

The “Chosen One” looked up slowly at him. “As much as I enjoy the sound of drowning my sorrows in various high-grade, I’d rather not have my second death be at the hands of an angry mob.” He groaned, propping his head against one end of the couch with one arm.

“The majority of the population doesn’t hate you, Starscream,” Bee clarified. “And besides. Do you _really _think a lot of mechs are gonna try to kill the First Delegate’s personal advisor in a bar?”

“Ugh, please stop being right...” The seeker lamented as he finally forced himself up onto his pedes. “You know I hate it when you’re the one who ends up making sense.”

The yellow mech only smiled softly back at him in response, offering his hand to lead Starscream out of the office and down to the street.

“Trust me, it’ll be fun,” he reassured his friend. “Just think of it as two mechs making up for some lost time.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sunset over New Cybertron was in full effect now, the nearly violet colored sky full of stars as Bumblebee and Starscream arrived at Maccadam’s. Despite the entirely different planet, the blue and red mech couldn’t believe how it was nearly an exact replica of the same bar he, Windblade, and several other of his associates had frequented years ago. The familiar scent of various Vosnian and Kaon-based drinks he had a strong fondness for, the overall layout of the various booths and tables all set out, even the pre-war era music he would listen to in times of calming were the exact same.

“Huh,” He said at a low level that only the former scout beside him would hear amongst the crowd. “One look at this place and you’d never guess how this place is nothing but mere atoms on our Cybertron.”

“I know, right?” Bee added. “Seeing everyone here acting like nothing’s wrong…Primus, you wouldn’t believe it if someone said our whole species was on the verge of extinction five years ago.”

The two mechs sat right up front on the bar on two free stools amongst a whole swam of taken ones. Around the area, Starscream noticed nearby conversations amongst other mechs and femmes quieted as they walked their way over, at least a dozen pairs of optics and visors stealing quick glances at the infamous seeker, leading to soft, hushed words to others they were with.

“Great, now everyone’s ogling at me,” he sighed as he rested his chin against the bar, wings twitching in irritation. “I’ll consider it a miracle if I make it out of here with my wings still attached to my back.” he added, his optics glancing over at the yellow councilmech sitting to his left.

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” a voice Starscream _certainly _knew didn’t belong to Bumblebee said as a glass of Vosnian high-grade was set down in front of the seeker.

The bright cyan armor on the mech’s wrist whose servo had just placed the glass down could never be forgotten by him. Sitting back up, his optics looked over at the mech in front of him, gasping a bit in shock at the mech who stood before the seeker, looking completely alive and well despite what he knew had happened.

“Blurr?”

“Uhh, who else?” The bartender asked with a chuckle. “Primus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Heh, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that,” Bumblebee smiled with a shake of his head as the blue speedster turned to him.

“The usual, Bee?” he asked as he mixed another drink with seemingly no difficulty at all.

“You know it.” The former scout replied as he leaned in a bit onto the bar.

Starscream meanwhile was still awestruck at what he was seeing before him; The Functionist Cybertron had its own Blurr, who all but seemed to have the exact same personality as the one he knew perished along with Cybertron years ago?

“B-But you…You can’t possibly be-”

“Ohhh, now I got it,” Blurr interrupted. “This is about my _totally _inferior version of myself from your Cybertron, right? The one who couldn’t outrun a literal apocalypse? Yeah, you’re not the only one who’s had that confused look when they’ve strolled in.”

“Ugh, I take it back,” Starscream groaned as he finally took a sip of his drink, his engine revving just a bit from the delectable taste it gave in his belly. “You’re more of an aft than my Blurr ever was. Well, at least _after _he joined the Autobots. I still wonder how things would have been if I managed to convince him to join the Decepticons all those millennia ago.”

“You mean the Ascenticons?” Blurr asked the seeker as he got back in front of him after quickly zipping over to a table further towards the bar’s center to serve some drinks. “‘Decepticons’ doesn’t sound like a good faction at all.”

“Ascenticons? The frag is _that_?”

“Oh right, I never got to explain it to you,” Bumblebee interjected as he finished a good portion of his first drink.

“Aww, come on, Bee,” Blurr whined dramatically. “You really gonna steal my big moment like that?”

“Alright, alright,” The councilmech laughed as he went to go pick up his glass and take another sip. “I’ll let you tell him.”

The blue mech grinned in excitement as he turned back to Starscream, all the while his servos moved about quickly preparing other drinks.

“Okay, so I know Megatron’s kinda got pretty bad rep with you guys, right?” he began to say, all the while effortlessly sliding drinks down to other patrons at the bar. “But lemme tell ya, when he showed up here with Rodimus and the rest of his crew all those years ago, I swear it was the best thing that could’ve happened to this place.”

Starscream couldn’t help but actually _laugh _at that statement, having downed the rest of his drink in the process. Said laugh got the attention of a few others close to him, staring at him for a moment due to the volume of it.

Okay. Maybe the high-grade was starting to get to him a bit.

“You _can’t _be serious,” Starscream sighed in amusement as he played with the now empty glass in his servo, waiting for Blurr to refill it. “Megatron, doing good? I highly doubt that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Blurr sighed as he snatched the glass from him to refill it, Starscream watching the former racer with a still unimpressed look. “Hearing how he practically brought your Cybertron to near ruin wasn’t exactly the best way to be introduced to the guy, but look at what we’ve got now thanks to him! He gave everyone a purpose to fight for, showed us our fates weren’t determined just by what we transformed into. I mean, look at me! Racing’s fun and all, but nothing beats running this bar.”

Despite the clear enthusiasm the bartender had in telling the story, Starscream still had little interest in the matter, not even hesitating to down his second drink in one go. He shuddered a bit at the burning sensation it gave in his tank, processor starting to go a bit hazy from how rapidly he was consuming the drinks. He should probably slow down a bit…

But, frag it. He’d rather poison himself than listen to whatever scrap propaganda Megatron fed to this alternate Blurr.

“Mhmm…” The “Chosen One” hummed in disinterest, holding out his glass to the mech in front of him expectantly. “If you refill this, perhaps I’ll actually bother to listen to the end of this drabble.”

The speedster shot Starscream a somewhat offended glare before reluctantly obliging the mech’s request. As he did, the seeker noticed an odd symbol on the cyan mech’s chestplate over his spark chamber. A red arrow in a circle pointing upwards. To him, it almost looked like an upside-down Decepticon badge.

“What in Primus’ name is that?” He asked Blurr with a hiccup.

“Oh this?” The bartender responded, gesturing to said symbol. “This was the Ascenticon’s official symbol,” he then grinned. “Yours truly was one of its top spies/couriers back then.”

The seeker sighed and idly swirled the glass in his hand as he kept listening.

“Point is, he made amends as far as I am a lot of other people on this planet are concerned,” he then continued as the blue and red mech continued drinking, his purple optics struggling a bit to stay open as his helm grew heavy due to all the alcohol inside his frame. “I mean sure, Rodimus and his crew did the real work by finally getting rid of the council, But the whole century we spent waiting for them, Megatron kept us going. Peace through empathy indeed.”

Wait. Starscream couldn’t have possibly heard that right, could he? Surely his audials were playing tricks on him, a mishearing as a result of his current intoxication.

Otherwise, he would be absolutely _livid. _

“E-Excuse me,” He stammered a bit at Blurr. “What _exactly _did you just say?”

“Peace through empathy?” Blurr repeated with a confused tone. “That’s what the Ascenticon motto was. Never once did we raise our fists as a sign of war. Everything we did was either peaceful protests, sabotages with no casualties, or just courier deliveries to other groups around the planet. Something your guys’ Autobots could learn a thing or two from…”

Starscream was so furious he hadn’t even realized he had crushed the glass that was in his hand.

“Empathy?!” Starscream roared, startling several patrons in the bar, Bee and Blurr included. “I was beaten to near death more times than I can count by that mech! Does that sound like the kind of mech to suddenly act _EMPATHETIC?!_”

He had slammed both of his servos down on the bar at that point, purple optics crackling with overcharge from all the alcohol as nearly everyone else in the bar had their eyes on him. His denta were bared at Blurr in an angry snarl, fangs visible just so as he looked like he was just another word away from hopping over and beating the life out of him.

Something Bumblebee was scared he actually might witness if he didn’t intervene immediately.

“O-Okay, easy, Starscream!” the yellow councilmech said reassuringly as he grabbed the seeker’s left shoulder and wing to pull him back a bit, the appendage twitching in an aggravated manner and causing Starscream to grunt in discomfort.

Blurr just watched in total shock as Starscream kept optic contact with him for a few more moments before his helm snapped to the side at Bumblebee, still keeping a firm grip on him.

“Forget this…” He growled as he shoved Bee away a bit and stood up, stumbling out towards the street into what was surprisingly a pretty dense crowd.

“H-Hey! Wait, Starscream!” Bee called as he ran after his friend. “Put it all on my tab!” He then shouted back to Blurr as he ran to catch up to the seeker.

The sky above New Cybertron was approaching a bright violet color now as night began, the small councilmech thankfully able to identify Starscream from the distinctive colors of armor he had compared to the majority of the crowd.

“L-Listen, Blurr didn’t mean anything by that,” He said in an attempt to calm his friend down. “Let’s just go back to the capital, alright? You could use the rest.”

“Leave me…Leave me alone…” Starscream said in a bit of a stupor, walking seemingly without any destination in mind.

“Come on, it’s not safe out here for you at night. We really need to get you back.”

“I just want to be alone and die…”

Bee’s spark throbbed in pain from the mech’s words. Primus, it was just like Chromia had told him; Starscream wasn’t doing well at all.

“What did _Megatron _do that made him so special?” Starscream continued, looking up at the sky as his pedes just dragged along the ground. “He’s responsible for mass genocide on a galactic scale, yet het gets _revered _by a whole fragging planet! And then _I _usher Cybertron in a new age of peace by backstabbing my way to the top, establish a interplanetary council between the lost colonies, and _give my life _to prevent our species extinction, and what do _I _get for it?! Nothing! No one gives praise to me, Bumblebee! _NO ONE!!!” _

The former scout was practically frozen in place from the other mech’s words. He couldn’t possibly imagine the pain his friend was dealing with. Of course, it wasn’t like he could easily relate to Starscream on that matter at all.

He was about to respond to him when Bee noticed the crowd in front of them had stopped, gathered around something on the street corner. A few shocked gasps sounded from in front of the two, several more people talking loudly in confusion.

But what bothered Bee the most about the situation was the Badgeless officers in the front, led by Ironhide trying to direct several citizens away from whatever they were guarding.

“Wait…What’s going on over there?” he asked Starscream as he pointed over to all of the commotion, immediately shoving through the crowd to get a better look and stopping in horror at what he saw.

“Of course, leave me *hic* leave me again!” Starscream said as he stumbled on after him. “Because Primus forbid anyone in this scrapheap of a universe actually gives an ounce of slag about poor old Star…”

By the time he had reached the front of the crowd however, Starscream found himself unable to form any more words, his stomach doing somersaults from the sight before him.

Pinned to the side of a large building by two large nails through his servos, crucified against the wall, Rattrap’s disfigured corpse hung for all to see. All of his armor and protoform from the neck down looked to have been flayed, internal wiring and other organs hanging viscerally out of various body cavities. Bright, still fresh purple energon stained his frame and the wall and ground beneath him, a haunting message written out above his head.

_YOU ARE BEING DECEIVED _

The violent sight alone added to his already existing intoxication caused Starscream to purge his tanks almost immediately.

Sick indeed.


	4. Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initially accused of Rattrap's murder, Starscream is forced to defend himself against Prowl before an unlikely ally comes to rescue him. Afterwards, Starscream reconciles with Windblade, an interaction that has the seeker questioning his true feelings about her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I should warn about this, but just in case, there's a self-service scene at the end of this fic. You've been warned!

Fury.

Starscream’s processor could focus on nothing but the anger and rage coursing through his frame as he sat at a table in the Iacon Police Station, his servos chained to said table with stasis cuffs.

He could never really catch a break today, could he? First day of his new life and he managed to bust his nasal ridge open, break the spark of the one femme he actually felt comfortable enough to confide in, have his face beat in some more by another femme, get word of his resurrection leaked across the entire planet, get intoxicated to the point of purging his tanks enough to leave dried, disgusting smears on his chestplate and chin, be reminded _once again _of how inferior he is compared to everyone else (_Megatron _of all mechs!), and on top of all of that, find out his former confidant had been murdered and made into a public piece of art.

Oh, and now _he _was being framed for said murder. So yeah. Reasonably, he was pissed.

Still hungover from hours ago, Starscream’s optics were a bit dim from exhaustion as he stared at the datapad in front of him, showing various pictures of Rattrap’s body along with other information gathered from the crime scene.

The seeker grit his denta as he heard a low ringing sound in his helm. It was fragging annoying.

The energon…Primus, there was so much of it. Dripping all down the poor mech’s open frame, smeared on the surrounding wall and ground too. There was absolutely no emotion in his face, dead optics staring blankly at the ground, mouth hanging open as his whole lower jaw was covered in the purple liquid. Most of it was still pretty fluorescent; he had died rather recently before Starscream and Bumblebee found him that night.

The ringing came back, louder this time. He only grit his denta harder, fangs biting on his lower lip to stop himself from shouting in frustration.

Flaying Rattrap was one thing. But to go the extra mile and crucify him too…Whoever ended up killing him, they sure wanted to prove a point. Not to mention the message above him written in his own-

“Starscream!”

The call of his name rang loudly through the blue and red mech’s audials. Painfully so.

“WHAT?!” He roared at Prowl, sitting on the other end of the table. The black and white mech seemed unaffected by his outburst, both his bright cyan optic and the dark crevice that was once the socket for his other one staring back at him. “Haven’t I suffered enough today?!”

Sighing softly, Prowl reached over to place a servo on the datapad in front of the seeker, pulling it back towards him,

“Uh huh,” he muttered in an uninterested tone as he then began to look it over again himself. “Well then, are you just planning to tell me this is all one big coincidence then? Starscream, a Decepticon officer, Megatron’s _second in command _for many millennia for that matter, dies after being convicted of _hundreds _of crimes before _and _during your time as Cybertron’s ruler, is resurrected after five years, and in the course of a single day, his former advisor is murdered and put on display outside of Maccadam’s? Is that what you’re going to tell me?”

Starscream’s wings twitched erratically as Prowl listed off each and every one of those bullet points, his servos trembling as he fought back the urge to stand up and try to punch the smug slagger’s other optic out.

“Are you _serious _right now?!” he spat at the officer, far too angry to care if everyone in this damn station heard him. “I gave my _life _to save you and the rest of this ungrateful species! Oh, of _course _this is how I’m repaid…Because Primus forbid at least _one _thing goes right for me…Have you even spoken to Bumblebee about this? I was with _him _the whole time!”

“Bumblebee didn’t arrive at New Cybertron until roughly eight hours ago,” the one-eyed mech replied calmly. “That still leaves whatever time you had before Windblade’s impromptu press conference unaccounted for.”

“Then call Windblade! She _is _my advisor, you know. Primus, this is why I had the Badgeless created in the first place…They’re so much more efficient compared to you and the rest of this sham you call a police station.”

“Chromia said she’s out dealing with other matters,” Prowl rebuttled, his brow slanting as his optic glared at the mech in front of him. “You’re running out of scapegoats, Starscream…”

“Primus, do you even _hear _yourself?! What is it with you cops always being so quick to call out former criminals as suspects for this type of slag anyway? What reason would I have to even _kill _Rattrap?! Yeah, he knew every crime I committed as ruler of Cybertron, but _I _admitted to said crimes years ago! And even if I _were _to kill him, I wouldn’t make a fragging _spectacle _of it with a flaying/crucifixion combo!”

“You fit the killer’s MO, Starscream. The Decepticon’s _motto _was written in Rattrap’s own energon! Don’t think we forgot that _you _tried to revive the Decepticons singlehandedly back when Unicron was a problem.”

“Oh yes, because my only other choice to let _Prime _lead us all to ruin was a _much _better idea….You Autobots could learn to be more proactive.”

Gritting his denta in irritation, Prowl finally snapped, slamming both of his servos down on the table.

“Enough games!” He shouted at the seeker. “I don’t know how, but right now, I’m willing to bet you murdered Rattrap. Whether it be revenge, tying up a loose end, or some other motive, his death is on _you._”

Glaring daggers into Starscream’s helm, who looked nearly as angry right back at him, The enforcer finally backed down, sitting somewhat laxly in his chair.

“No one can cover for you now, Starscream.” He warned him. “You’ve got no friends to fall back on, no allies, _nothing. _So make yourself comfortable, because unless a miracle comes through that door, you may as well be-”

The sound of the interrogation room’s door snapping open caused Prowl to stop mid-sentence, both him and Starscream looking over in complete surprise at the femme who walked in.

“Windblade?!” Both mechs said aloud in confusion, Starscream the louder of the two.

The First Delegate had a rather neutral look on her face, briefly glancing at the seeker before turning to Prowl.

“Would you care to explain why you have my political advisor in your custody?” She asked him.

“Said advisor is currently our prime suspect in Rattrap’s murder, which I’m sure you’re well aware of by now,” The one-eyed mech explained, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I don’t intend that to change unless you came in here with proof that says otherw-”

Prowl’s words were interrupted as his own personal datapad pinged, pulling it out from subspace as his optic gazed over it. In an instant, several strings of numbers and other statistics streamed through his pad, the officer’s face scrunching in confusion.

“And what exactly _is _this data?” He asked Windblade as he looked back up her.

“That data is a straight report from the CR chamber Starscream has been in for the past five years,” She answered. “It marks the exact time he was released, and also contains my own personal entry on how Starscream has been in _my _presence nearly every moment after. Given the brief amounts of time he _was _alone, it’d be impossible for him to have slipped out anytime before Rattrap’s body was discovered and murder him.”

Prowl’s optic looked at the femme, then back at his pad initially in disbelief. Once he had processed the information however, he let out a defeated sigh.

Starscream on the other hand was absolutely amazed that Windblade had come to defend him at all; with the scrap way he had treated her earlier today, the seeker thought he’d never taste freedom again.

“Right…” Prowl said as he stood up, waving a servo over Starscream’s stasis cuffs’ biometric scanner to disengage them and free the blue and red mech from his shackles. “I am sorry to have troubled you, Windblade.”

“Primus, you could stand to loosen these up a bit next time…” Starscream muttered to himself as he rubbed his wrist joints, staying seated for a few more moments.

“I understand your suspicions, Prowl,” Windblade responded reassuringly, seemingly paying no mind to her advisor’s words. “But I swear that Starscream is innocent in this affair.”

The Camien’s helm then turned towards said mech, briefly gesturing towards the door. He had no oppositions to her request, immediately making his way out. He would have given some time to mock Prowl on his way out, whether it be a slag-eating grin, a witty insult, something like that. But with how hungover, exhausted, and filthy he was at that point, he just didn’t have the strength in him to do that in the moment.

“We’ll talk more outside,” She said quietly to him as he passed her by, Starscream’s wings twitching just the slightest in surprise as her words hit his audials.

He only nodded in response before taking his leave, glancing back over his shoulder to watch her for just one more moment.

“I’ll send Wheeljack over tomorrow to help investigate his body.” Was all he could manage to hear before he was finally outside, the warm air of Iacon greeting him with a gentle gust directly in his face.

The dark purple night sky of Cybertron was always one of Starscream’s favorite parts of the planet he called home. Many lazy nights during his own reign as ruler he would lie down in his office, gaze out upon the city, and try to count how many stars were out that night before he fell into recharge out of mere boredom.

20,234 was the highest he ever got up to. Maybe he should try to beat that record tonight?

“Starscream?”

He managed to get to about five thousand when the seeker heard Windblade call from behind him. Wings twitching the slightest bit in response, he slowly turned to face her. Primus, he can’t believe she actually came to bail him out.

“What were you looking at?” She asked him.

“What? Oh, it’s…it’s nothing,” Starscream answered. “I was just counting the stars. A-And don’t tell me that’s weird or anything of the sort, I just...I like doing it on nights when I’m bored. It’s…calming to me.”

“I don’t think that’s weird at all,” The First Delegate said with a soft smile, her wings shifting just the tiniest bit as she stole a brief glance up at the night sky to admire what he had been moments ago. “Nights on Caminus were a lot like this too. I…liked doing it sometimes myself.”

Starscream felt his spark chamber was pressing down hard on his own spark, the guilt of how he acted towards Windblade earlier in the day weighing heavily on him. He had to try and make this right.

“Listen, Windblade…” He said as he scratched the back of his helm anxiously, the constant twitching of his wings behind him emphasizing his current nervousness. “Thank you for coming tonight, and…I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

The femme had a rather stoic look on her face as she looked right into Starscream’s optics, her focus solely on his words.

“Y-You were right,” the seeker continued. “This is a…slag situation for a lack of better terms and you did the best you could to make the most-”

He was interrupted as Windblade slowly walked towards him, his tired, purple optics widening in surprise as she placed one servo on his shoulder comfortingly, all the while never breaking optic contact with him.

He could’ve sworn his spark skipped a beat in response to the touch. It felt just as good as when that same servo was on his cheek just hours ago.

It radiated with feelings of warmth. Safety.

Comfort.

He wanted nothing more than to keep feeling like that.

“I-I…” His mouth stammered out. “What a-are you doing…?”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Windblade reassured him. “I understand why you reacted the way you did. And to be honest…I should’ve known better than to put this kind of pressure on you so soon after you woke up.”

Starscream couldn’t believe this. Was Windblade actually apologizing to _him_? But why? She did nothing wrong. It was all his fault anyway…

“No, Windblade,” the blue and red mech said with a shake of his helm. “This isn’t on you. I was…I was being selfish again, and you don’t have to try and justify that. I’ve accepted that already, so let me admit that I was wrong.”

The Camien couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his stubbornness.

“You’re really committed to this, aren’t you?”

“It _is _one of my few redeeming qualities.” He laughed back with a small smirk on his face. It felt good to feel something other than anger, regret or guilt for once.

Both pairs of optics stayed locked together for a few more moments before Windblade pulled away just a bit, frowning as she looked over the mess Starscream’s upper body was.

“Primus, you look awful…” She sighed as she looked up at the somewhat faded purple stains on the seeker’s chin and chestplate, signs of his previous intoxication.

“I _feel _awful.” The mech in front of her reaffirmed. “This frame doesn’t handle high-grade as well as my last one did.”

“Well…How about you come back with me and I’ll clean you up?”

Starscream blinked a few times in surprise from what he just heard.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“I asked if you’d like me to clean you up?” She asked again. “I’ve got my own private washrack back at the tower in my quarters. We can use that.”

Starscream hoped she didn’t see the small pink tint that covered his cheeks. She…wanted to clean _him? _

“That’s…That’s really kind of you to offer,” he managed to say, trying not to (hopefully) embarrass himself further. “B-But I can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“Starscream, it’s really fine,” Windblade said with a reassuring smile. “After all, what kind of friend would I be if I just left you out here on your own?”

Wait. What did she just say?

“Y-You…think I’m your friend?”

“Of course, I do. And that’s what friends do; they help each other out when they’re at their lowest.”

Friend.

That’s a word no one’s considered Starscream in a long time. Well, except for Bumblebee.

Hearing it from Bee was one thing, but to be called that by the one femme he admired over everyone else on this planet?

The seeker was surprised that his spark didn’t burst from the overwhelming feeling of joy he felt from that one word. He wasn’t even sure how to process such information at first.

“Right…” He managed to say, unable to hide the small smile on his face on top of the blush that was already there. “Well, if you’re _that _insistent about cleaning me…I suppose it couldn’t hurt to accept help this one time.”

Windblade kept that fragging adorable smile on her face the whole time, her wings fluttering once again in response to his answer. “You’ll enjoy it. Trust me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Only about an hour passed before the two of them had arrived at Windblade’s private quarters. Located on one of the higher levels of the same tower her office was in, what was (once again) formerly Starscream’s looked nearly identical in layout to his. A fairly roomy living space, it had enough room for about four or five mechs to move about as the pleased. Of course, her room had far more…lively colors, and was adorned with several decorations and mementos he recognized as Camien in origin.

An ode to her dead homeworld, he suspected. If only Rodimus could’ve brought along a New Caminus as well…

“It’s right over here.” Windblade suddenly said to snap him out of his thoughts, gesturing to a door on the other side of her rather large berth.

It automatically slid open as she and Starscream approached it, revealing an aptly sized shower, large enough for two bots to share a wash together if they wished.

The seeker tried not to dwell on any…inappropriate implications as he and his new friend stepped inside. All he had to do was not embarrass himself anymore than he probably already had today. That couldn’t be hard, right?

The suddenly loud gasp Starscream gave as hot cleaning solvent splashed down on him from above proved otherwise, wings hiking straight up in response.

“Scrap, is it too hot?” The femme asked with concern as she quickly lowered the temperature a bit, her own wings tucking in a bit so they didn’t constantly bump against the washrack’s walls.

“N-No, it’s fine,” Starscream reassured her, groaning softly as the pleasant warmth of the liquid worked its way under his armor and into his sore, heavy joints. “First time with this kind of heat, that’s all.”

Taking a few exvents, Starscream truly began to lose himself in the pleasure that came from the hot shower. Frag, being dead for over five years truly made him realize what he was missing out on, loving just how much relief he felt as the solvent felt like it was washing nearly all of the pain and stress he had endured today away.

“Oooohh Primus, I missed this.” He said with a pleasured purr in his voice, servos rubbing at his chestplate in an attempt to remove the earlier stains from it. He frowned a bit when he saw how little was actually coming off, however.

“Here,” Windblade said as she reached over to a small shelf to grab a bottle of some sort of polishing gel. “Stay still and I can put it on.”

Starscream could’ve sworn his blush worsened as he realized what doing that would imply.

“Y-You don’t have to do that, really,” he tried to politely decline. “You, er…sho-shouldn’t have to get your servos filthy for my sake…”

Windblade only giggled again in response. “That’s kinda what the point of the shower is for,” She said soon after. “And besides, I _want _to. Again, that’s what friends do for each other.”

“W-Well…Alright, if you insist…”

Purple optics focused on the soft smile Windblade still wore as she poured some of the gel onto a polishing sponge, Starscream shifted his focus to her servo that held said sponge. His spark started beating faster, fearfully anticipating whatever reaction he was about to have to her touch.

Out of all the reactions he expected himself to give, one of…absolute pleasure was not among them.

He expected it to hurt, feel awkward, maybe even disgusting. But to be touched like this, by _Windblade, _her digits pressing gently yet firmly at the same time into this chestplate to spread the polishing gel around…

Well, it was hard to suppress the satisfied moan that escaped his throat.

The seeker was then momentarily brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a sad sigh escaping Windblade’s lips. Glancing down at the Camien, he noticed her optics locked on his chestplate, seemingly unfocused as she absentmindedly continued to clean him.

“Is something wrong…?” He asked her, shuddering a bit still from the pleasured touch of her servos.

“I just…” Windblade began to lament. “I just can’t believe Rattrap’s dead…He was an aft most of the time, but he didn’t deserve to be...massacred like that. And…I can’t help but feel like I’m partly to blame for this…”

Starscream’s brow raised up in confusion. “Why?” he asked her, finally getting her to look up at him. “You’re not the one who flayed him and nailed him up outside Maccadam’s.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve been more diligent in finding him…” she answered with a shake of her helm. “If I just had Ironhide or Prowl start looking for him when he first disappeared, if I was even the slightest bit concerned for him…He may still be alive…”

“You can’t think like that, Windblade,” the seeker reassured her. “How were you to know this was going to happen to him? No one could’ve predicted this. All you need to focus on right now, what _both of us _need to focus on, is finding the mech that killed him and making sure we keep everyone else safe.”

The red and black femme’s frown finally broke into a smile, one Starscream couldn’t help but smile right back at.

“Thanks for that,” She said as she focused more properly on washing him once again. “You’re right. We can’t change the past, but we can make sure this never happens again.”

Shortly after Starscream nodded in agreement, his wings fluttered like a worked-up butterfly as Windblade’s servos fell upon his torso, his optics slowly closing to focus solely on the feeling while he stepped back a bit so he could lean against the wall of the washrack for extra support. To be touched like this by the femme he valued over all others, not with malicious intent, but true, _pure _affection and care…

He wanted more. Primus, he wished this moment would never end. He wished that she could continue these lovely touches for the rest of his life, have those soft, tender servos dance across his plating and bring such a satisfying, and wonderful heat to his frame that no other could.

He was so caught up in the amazing sensation that he hadn’t even realized it had only been a few minutes before Windblade was finished, her servos unfortunately pulling away with him.

Starscream whined a bit at the loss, his optics peeking open just a bit to see the Camien still right in front of him, her own frame shining beautifully as a result of the solvent soaking her entirely.

Yet another soft giggle emerged from her lips as she stared up at him. “See? Looks like you really enjoyed it.”

The seeker was at a near loss of words, only able to stammer as practically his whole face erupted in a bright shade of pink.

Windblade looked at him with a bit of concern. “Are you alright?” She asked him tentatively. “Are you overheating this time?”

“N-No!” The seeker blurted out, taking a few deep exvents in an attempt to calm himself. “No, I…I’ve just…Never had someone else…care for me like you have.”

The First Delegate frowned at this revelation. “I can only imagine. It…It wasn’t uncomfortable for you, was it?”

“No, no! N-Not at all! I…I actually quite enjoyed it.”

That smile Starscream absolutely loved returned to her face soon after, shutting off the shower at the same time.

“I’m glad to hear that.” She said sincerely as she grabbed two large cloths for both of them to dry off with.

Starscream gladly took one from Windblade’s free servo, wiping himself down when his nasal ridge picked up on a quite delightful scent…Coming from himself.

“Hmm...” He hummed in approval. “I must say, this is quite the nice polish you use. Do you happen to know the brand? I would love to get some for myself.”

“Uhh, something from Polyhex, I think.” Windblade replied, more focused on cleaning herself in the moment.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Once the two had finished drying themselves, Starscream looked over to Windblade as they walked back to right outside her quarters.

“Thank you, Windblade…” He said sincerely, his previous blush now faded and replaced with a genuine smile on his face. “For everything you’ve done today. I will try to be worthy of…of being your friend.”

Primus, this whole experience was completely foreign to him. But he was willing to try and get used to it. For her.

“It’s fine. Really,” Windblade reassured him yet again. “I know you will. We just need to get to the bottom of who killed Rattrap now…”

“Yes, I figured as much. Is there anything you’d like me to look into?”

“Actually, yes. I’m not sure if you heard, but I’m sending Wheeljack back over to Prowl tomorrow to help with the investigation of his body, see if there’s anything we can learn about his killer. You think you can go with him? You could help out a lot.”

“Heh. Because of my status as former second-in-command of the Decepticons?”

Now Windblade immediately started to get embarrassed, her face turning the slightest shade of blue. “N-No, that’s not what I-”

“Oh, relax, it was just a joke.” Starscream sighed with an amused grin on his face. “Friends can joke around like this, right?”

Windblade could only laugh back in response. “You’re such an aft!” She said to him in jest, playfully punching his shoulder.

Oh yes. Starscream was _very _much liking this new relationship they had.

“Well, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow then,” He then said as he walked towards an elevator in the lobby which they stood. “I think I hear my CR chamber calling me.”

“W-Wait!”

Starscream’s wings perked up familiarly in surprise, turning back around to face the red and black femme.

“This, may not be the best time given the circumstances, but now that there’s a vacancy as my political advisor…” She began to say as she briefly closed her optics, a sudden password and ID string appearing on Starscream’s own HUD moments after. “I think you might appreciate having your own actual quarters instead of that unpleasant chamber.”

“Rattrap’s old quarters, eh?” Starscream mused as he looked over the new info before storing it in his processor. “Eh, I’ll take his tiny berth over spending another night in that tight capsule.”

“It’s just down the hall there,” Windblade explained, gesturing to the hall on the opposite side of the lobby. “Room 405.”

“Got it. Thanks again for all of this. I really mean that.” The seeker said one last time before heading to his new quarters.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starscream was fairly surprised by how big Rattrap’s quarters were. Well, it was barely the size of Windblade’s, but it still gave the seeker enough room to maneuver comfortably. Unlike the Camien’s the smaller mech’s quarters were pretty basic in terms of colors and such, the dark, dull blue paint and minimalist furniture design gave that impression off clearly.

His berth however was surprisingly big for a mech Rattrap’s size. Granted, it was still small for Starscream, but not so much that he’d expect it to collapse if he laid on it. Perhaps he would ask Windblade about getting a more appropriately sized one in the coming days.

Eager to get some recharge in, the blue and red mech wasted no time in lying down on his back, feeling no remorse in the pleasured moan that followed as his frame sank a bit into the comfortable material.

His optics mindlessly stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, the only light filling the room was that of the thousands of buildings and people below on the streets that showed through the glass wall behind him.

Bah. Enough stalling. Just focus on rest.

Taking a deep sigh, Starscream closed his optics and attempted to do just that.

Emphasis on attempted.

Groaning in irritation, he just couldn’t get his mind to focus on absolutely nothing. Instead, it kept focusing on events from earlier today. But said events had one theme they all shared.

Touch.

Primus, he just couldn’t get his mind off every single time Windblade touched him today. No matter what he did to try and think of something else, his frame couldn’t just forget that wonderful feeling.

He had never been touched like that before. He had no idea how to even react to that kind of thing before, that…affection.

It felt so good. Starscream wanted more of it. Frag, her servos were all over him minutes ago and he already missed it. It drove his frame crazy, heat building up inside of him everywhere. In his spark, in his arms…

In his groin.

Oh frag.

He couldn’t believe he was actually feel _aroused _from it.

He had to do something, figure out a way to make this damn heat go away. It was blistering now, forcing Starscream to constantly fidget in his berth.

“Ngh…Frag it.”

With a soft gasp, his interface panel popped free, his fully erect spike immediately bobbing free. It was a surprisingly pretty length, blue, red, and white markings along the shaft leading up to the head and accompanied by purple biolights.

Starscream didn’t care about any of that. He needed release. Now.

Taking his right servo up, the seeker squeezed the length of his spike somewhat tightly, moaning a bit loudly as he began to stroke himself rapidly as he tried to focus his mind on the wonderful feelings he felt as Windblade touched him.

Oh frag, he wished she would’ve touched him everywhere; his hips, between his thighs, his aft, his neck…

Frag, he wished it was _her _servo wrapped around his spike instead of his own.

Starscream’s strokes got faster as time went on, squeezing his optics shut and biting his lower lip a bit roughly to stifle the ragged pants and groans that attempted to break free from his throat.

His processor went back to that incredible shower, imagining her body pressed up right against his. Oh, yes, he could feel it so vividly…And see it, too.

Primus, she looked so irresistible soaking wet. Her perfect hips, her perfect face, her perfect aft…

He wanted to touch her too. And he didn’t care if he desired it in that moment, because dammit, his body was _scorching _at this point. He felt so deprived without her, so lost.

He _needed _her.

A choked gasp simmered down into a low moan soon after, Starscream tasting his own energon on his lips. He didn’t even realize he had overloaded until he felt his own warm transfluids splattered across his belly and part of his chest, bringing the servo he used up to his face soon after.

He looked at the offending limb in disgust. How could he have just done that, thought of being with _her _like that?

His servo was covered in his own fluids. Because he was so depraved of Windblade’s touch.

“I’m so fragged up…” He groaned as he covered his face with said servo, not caring if he smeared some fluids on his helm.

Because that wouldn’t change how furious Starscream was with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks to you all who've been reading this far! Not gonna lie, I was nervous about writing this ending for a while, but I'm really excited to see what you all think of it! Now that we're in September, I can happily say that the last two chapters of this fic will be uploaded this week! Chapter 5 will be released around this time on Wednesday, and Chapter 6 on Friday! It means so much to hear from all of you who are currently enjoying my first story here on AO3, and I hope I can give you all a satisfying story that you will enjoy! See you in a few days!


	5. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream investigates Rattrap's body with Wheeljack and Prowl in an effort to learn his killer's identity, but a surprise ally called in by Prowl complicates things. Meanwhile, tensions rise as Windblade struggles to deal with the fallout of Rattrap's murder, culminating in a chase across Cybertron with Starscream to catch their killer.

Hope.

Among the many firsts Starscream had felt yesterday at the start of his new life, that was one feeling he had yet to feel. He hardly ever did before his initial demise, he doubted he would start now. But perhaps finding Rattrap’s killer and restoring at least _some _sense of stability in Cybertron would accomplish that.

With the company he had right now though, he didn’t find that likely.

As per Windblade’s request the night prior, the seeker accompanied Wheeljack back to Iacon’s police station to assist Prowl in analyzing Rattrap’s corpse. Led down to the morgue by another officer, the two mechs saw the one-eyed enforcer had already begun in the process, taking note on a datapad as he observed Rattrap, whose body was currently laid out in front of him on a medical slab. Various organs, tanks and T-Cogs alike were carefully laid out on the slab’s side.

His body had been drained of any remaining energon, the color of his protoform having shifted to a more dull, rustic tone. His lifeless optics were still open, a pitch black now as opposed to their usual bright red.

Starscream cared little for the mech, but Primus, seeing his body mutilated like this was still unnerving as the Pits. Only slightly less revolted than he was while intoxicated.

“You could at least spare to cover up his face, you know,” He spoke to Prowl. “Just looking into those optics of his are already making my wings twitch.”

Prowl looked up from his pad in response to his call, his optic ridges slanting condescendingly at him. “Windblade didn’t tell me you’d be here too.”

“You’re not her lapdog, Prowl,” Starscream sighed as he and Wheeljack stood on the opposite side of Rattrap’s body. “Unfortunately, that’s _my _position now. She requested that I accompany Wheeljack, so now I’m here. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“Nope, not at all…” Prowl groaned, giving Starscream the briefest, but ever so satisfying feeling in his spark.

“Good. I don’t need to hear any more of your impudent accusations insisting that _I _put poor Rattrap here in front of us today.”

The one-eyed mech ignored him and turned to the scientist beside him. “Wheeljack, I need you to look over Rattrap’s body, see if anything looks out of place,” he instructed. “I’ve already extracted his t-cog and energon tanks to make it easier.”

Wheeljack nodded in response, his optics holding a rather stoic look over the dead mech’s body behind that facemask of his. It made Starscream wonder sometimes what exactly he was thinking in certain moments.

Wheeljack started with Rattrap’s tanks first, his servos picking up the organs with extreme care. “Doesn’t seem to be any puncture marks on them.” He said aloud to both of the other mechs in the room, Starscream making sure to keep a note of his observations saved in his own processor. “In fact, there seems to be no sign of any stab or blaster wounds anywhere on his body.” He added as his optics wandered over the rest of Rattrap’s visceral remains.

“So what exactly does that mean?” Starscream asked.

“Gimme a sec,” Wheeljack interrupted as he set the tanks down, grabbing an energon scalpel off a small tray to the side and wasting no time before he began cutting into the organs. Starscream could only wince at the sound the unprocessed energon inside it made as it evaporated from direct contact with the hot blade.

Collecting a small sample of the energon in a vial he acquired from subspace, the scientist then inserted said vial into a small compartment inside his right wrist, a built in pad there showing the results from scanning the energon.

“Just as I thought,” He stated as he pulled the vial out. “There’s no trace of any kind of poison in his energon either.”

“Which means that Rattrap was still alive when he was flayed by our killer,” Prowl then surmised. “And that the cause of death was almost certainly loss of energon.”

Starscream shuddered at the mere thought of dying like that; pinned to the wall of some building, having your whole front half peeled off and left to bleed out…Such a fate made him grateful for the fact that his first life had ended so swiftly.

“There’s no sign of entry of any toxic chemicals from the bolts that were lodged through his servos either.” Wheeljack added as he looked over the wounds which Rattrap was crucified by.

“So the crucifixion was just to make a statement…” Starscream murmured in response. “And I thought _I _was the theatric one…”

Wheeljack’s optics continued studying over the open cavity that was Rattrap’s torso. Up towards the top of his spark chamber, around his neck, the scientist noticed a small incision, one that could have easily been made by a scalpel or other sharp instrument.

“There’s some kind of cut on his neck here…” He said to the other two mechs as he grabbed his own energon scalpel to cut open Rattrap’s intake more. By the time the opening was big enough to spread apart with some of his digits, he made another important discovery.

“Huh. Looks like someone had his voicebox cut out.” The scientist said aloud as his servos fingered around in the empty space where said organ would usually be.

“Makes sense with what our killer was doing,” Prowl added. “If they flayed him right on that wall, if not somewhere close by they’d had to have done that so Rattrap’s screams wouldn’t expose them.”

Servos smeared in a dark violet as Wheeljack finished observing the lack of voicebox in Rattrap’s intake, his focus shifted to the body’s helm. Unlike the rest of his body, Rattrap’s head seemed to have no visible injuries or marks at all. This posed an interesting question to him and the other mechs.

“Is his er, processor intact?” Starscream asked aloud, not caring which of the other two answered.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Prowl answered. “Initial scans we performed once we secured his body confirmed it. We actually have a mnemosurgeon heading over now to see if we can access Rattrap’s final thoughts to find out our killer.”

Starscream crossed his arms over his chest, exventing softly. “I’m actually surprised you’re willing to work with Chromedome again,” He then said with a hint of snark and a smirk. “Of course though with Mesothalus and Arcee too, you never did have the best relationship with your _exes, _did you?”

The one-eyed mech groaned in response. “Chromedome isn’t joining us, Starscream…” he said while he pinched the bridge of his nasal ridge. “He’s off world right now with Rewind in the Milne Cluster.”

“Then are you planning on ever telling us what mystery mech will be joining us today, ‘Detective’?” the seeker retorted in a mocking tone.

“Mech? How presumptuous, Starscream…” A deep, familiar feminine voice called out from behind him. A voice that caused Starscream to actually let out a startled yelp and jump forward a bit as he turned around to face a femme he had hoped he’d never have to see again, wings tucked together tightly in shock still.

The femme in question’s large purple optics were just as fear-inducing as he remembered them, the black and yellow armor over her purple protoform impossible to remove from his own processor.

“A-Airachnid?!” Starscream said in disbelief.

The slim Eukarian chuckled softly in response before bowing mockingly in front of him “The one and only, oh High Chancellor.”

Starscream immediately wheeled back around to Prowl. “Y-You can’t possibly tell me _she _is your mnemosurgeon! Do you know how many former Decepticons she’s killed?!”

“Decepticons that _you _ordered me to kill,” Airachnid clarified, still having that condescending smirk on her face. “I know being dead and all that can probably make some details hazy for you, but surely you didn’t forget that?”

“Not that it matters to you, but she’s on parole too,” Prowl added. “A year ago, we looked more into her profile. Yes, she’s responsible for the murders of nearly a dozen former Decepticons, but said ‘Cons were murdered on _your _orders, not to mention the extensive criminal records many of them had. Since then, she’s proven to be a valuable asset to us in regards to investigations like this.”

“That’s right~” Airachnid teased Starscream in taunting voice. “And besides, if the former second-in-command of the Decepticons can get a second chance, than a misguided, but good-intentioned mnemosurgeon can too, right?”

The seeker sighed in defeat. “Fine, whatever,” he said as he brought his arms back across his chest. “Can we just stop ‘catching up on the good old days’ and find our killer already?”

“I think you were more patient _before _you died,” The Eukarian teased further as she walked past him towards Rattrap’s helm, purposely shoving past Starscream just a bit. The seeker scoffed as Wheeljack and Prowl brought out a cable to connect to Airachnid’s own helm, plugging the other end into a nearby monitor so they would be able to observe Rattrap’s final thoughts along with her.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Prowl said to her, who nodded back as small needles protruded from her right servo’s digits and plunged into the back of Rattrap’s neck.

Airachnid’s optics shut as she stood still, the other three mechs waiting patiently for a few moments before the monitor whirred to life with initial static as she attempted to extract the necessary memories.

In the following moments, a proper image started to take shape. Outlines of a HUD were able to be made out along with bits of scenery. The footage appeared to be from Rattrap’s point of view when it finally cleared, the clock on his HUD showing the time to be only a few hours prior to Starscream, Bumblebee, and countless other Cybertronians found him just outside of that alley across from Maccadam’s. His energon reserves were deathly low, emergency indicators showing on his HUD revealed he only had merely a few minutes left of consciousness before he would shut down.

In front of the dying mech was a larger figure, quite brutish in his build. The black armor with white highlights and green biolights about somewhat obscured by the darkness of the alley.

“Can’t wait ta see the looks on all those pieces of trash when they see what I did to ya…” A deep, husky voice belonging to the mech in question said to Rattrap, pulling away to stand up proper in the alley. The little bit of moonlight and other neon fixtures on the streets partly illuminated his face to the smaller mech’s optics, picking up on the rather wide, unattractive face he had; deep red optics, and heavily scarred lips completed his features, a badly scratched out Decepticon badge on his chestplate completing his appearance. In his right servo, part of a bloody energon knife could be seen, adding to the already vivid mess on the ground beneath both mechs.

Rattrap tried to respond back, call out for help at all. Unfortunately, all the escaped was a very weak, shrill whine of unintelligible sounds, one that managed to even make Starscream shudder a bit as he watched.

The brutish mech chuckled softly in response, Rattrap’s HUD just seconds away from shutting down. “Don’t waste your time, runt,” He growled with a wide grin on his face, a few denta missing from his smile. “You’re gonna die in-”

Abruptly, the memory ended after that, the last few moments of Rattrap’s life restarting from the beginning of that particular session.

Airachnid’s optics opened following that, Prowl turning to her immediately. “Go back a minute or so. I want the best picture possible of our killer.”

The black femme nodded as the footage on the monitor rewound back to the moment after the mech pulled away from Rattrap, where his face was most illuminated by various sources of light.

“Recognize this guy at all, Starscream?” He then asked the seeker, looking over at him next.

Starscream scoffed in a dramatic, offended tone as the one-eyed mech called him. “What, you think that because _I _was Megatron’s second-in-command, I’m just going to know every single Decepticon’s name?”

“Well do you know this one?”

“Well yes, but that’s not the point!” the former High Chancellor retorted, his wings twitching in such a way that it caused Airachnid to chuckle in amusement. “Bah, his name is Touchdown. He was a professional cube player for Kaon’s team before the war, but he frequently used unauthorized circuit boosters to give him an edge in games. Pretty sure he was addicted to the stuff too. I thought the Decepticons could use some muscle like him, so I personally reached out to him and convinced him to join our cause.”

“Any more background info we should know?” Prowl sighed with a roll of his optic.

“As far as his rank goes, he was only around sergeant or squad leader last I recall,” Starscream added. “He was mostly in charge of residing over various supply and weapon facilities during the war.”

“And what else? He ever go around flaying poor ‘Bots during your guys’ war?” Wheeljack then asked.

“Primus, no. Sure, he was a brute, but not a psychopath. In the years since the war ended though, a lot could’ve changed for him.”

“Well, we need to act fast if we’re going to catch him,” Prowl said as he began to walk out of the lab. “I’m putting out a call to halt all shuttles heading out of New Cybertron leaving from Iacon and the surrounding cities.”

He looked over at the white scientist as he passed him and Starscream. “Wheeljack, stay with Airachnid and keep me updated on anything else you two manage to find from Rattrap’s body. I want Touchdown brought in by nightfall.”

“Uh-huh, sure thing, boss…” Wheeljack groaned sarcastically as the one-eyed mech took his leave, turning to Starscream soon after. “You should probably go head back to Windblade and fill her in on everything we just learned.”

“Ah yes, I do miss being everybody’s errand boy.” The seeker scoffed as he then took his leave, not even having to turn around to know of the wide, satisfied grin Airachnid had on her face.

Upon leaving the station, Starscream accessed his comm systems to reach Windblade’s private channel. It seemed as though the First Delegate went out of her way to put her own frequency in among other associates of hers, with Chromia, Bumblebee, Prowl, and a few others’ designations noticeable amongst her own. He’d have to thank her for that soon.

The blue and red mech continued his walk back to the capital building until he came across a familiar street corner. Unlike the rest of New Cybertron’s main roads in the middle of the day, this one was fairly open and remote, making the small block appear to be almost abandoned compared to its surrounding ones.

Of course, the police lines and barricades over where Rattrap’s mangled corpse had been discovered the previous night probably didn’t help that.

Starscream glanced over at it as his comm dialed up Windblade’s frequency. While Prowl’s officers had managed to clean up most of the viscera, it was impossible to deny what had happened there; a dull outline of the small mech’s body made from his now dried energon remained, small, persistent drops still staining the metal walkway under it. Cracks in the wall remained where bolts had previously been driven through as well.

But what alarmed Starscream the most was the haunting words still sprawled along the wall.

_YOU ARE BEING DECEIVED _

He thought the idea of a revival of the Decepticons died with…well, with _him. _When _he _died. The seeker just couldn’t wrap his helm around the idea of why another mech, especially dumb muscle like Touchdown, would be interested in possibly restoring the doomed faction.

After all, if _Starscream _couldn’t do it, then who could?

“Starscream?”

The call from Windblade brought him out of his thoughts, shaking his helm before responding to her. “Yes, I’m here. Sorry about that, I was…preoccupied with some other thoughts.”

“About Rattrap, I assume?”

“Yes. Just passing by the crime scene right now, actually.”

“Primus…Did you find anything about who could’ve killed him?”

“We have a suspect. Prowl’s looking into it right now.”

Starscream took a moment to look around, the sight of a few passing mechs and femmes’ optics on him unsettling him just a bit.

“Mind if I tell you once I’m back?” he then asked. “The last thing I need is some idiot on the street here hearing me talk of murder and have more rumors spreading about me than their probably already is.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Windblade replied. “I’m just finishing up a meeting with Ironhide and the Badgeless. He’ll be bringing them to Prowl to help out with pursuing this ‘suspect’. I’ll meet you in my office.”

“Alright. I’m on my way back now. See you soon.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starscream arrived just outside of Windblade’s office almost two hours after their prior conversation. It took him longer than expected to make his way through the crowds of reporters and mobs of angry and concerned citizens just outside the large tower. Political drama like this was yet another thing he was glad to have missed out on these past five years.

Pushing the doors open himself, he seemed to have caught the Camien in the middle of what looked like an argument.

With…Chromia? Interesting.

“I don’t have time to get to all of them.” Windblade said with a strong sense of frustration in her voice, her helm in her hands as she sat at her desk.

“We can’t keep them outside of here forever!” the blue femme exclaimed back, slamming her own servos on the desk in front of him. “They want answers! They need to hear it from their leader!”

As much as he was enjoying Chromia yell at someone other than himself, Starscream couldn’t say he felt better that said person was Windblade.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Starscream asked with surprisingly little snark in his voice, causing both femmes to turn and look at him.

“It’s nothing, Starscream,” Windblade sighed in an attempt to reassure him, pulling herself up into a more upright position as she rubbed her face tiredly with one servo.

“Yeah, like swarms of demanding people and reporters outside our building is ‘nothing’.” Chromia huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “We can’t just leave them out there forever. Eventually, there’s going to be _riots_. Do you think everyone down there is going to be comfortable knowing there’s a killer out there among us, and the one femme they look to for any word on the matter is up here leaving them in the dark?”

“I know that!” The red and black femme groaned. “But between this and all the conflicts with the Functionists over recolonizing with all of the survivors of Unicron, I can’t manage it all!”

This was getting out of hand. Starscream knew he had to step up. “I think that’s quite enough, Chromia,” He told the former bounty hunter as he walked closer to the other two. “Fancy speeches don’t solve every political problem either; sometimes you need to show your subjects that you’re actually willing to take action against potential threats to them, something I know for certain Windblade is capable of. And besides, we have more pressing matters to attend to besides some angry mobs.”

Windblade looked up at her new advisor with surprise; she honestly hadn’t expected him to actually stand for her. Not so publicly, anyway in front of others.

“Fine,” Chromia huffed again. “And please tell me you managed to bring good news.”

“You make me sound so incompetent,” Starscream sighed as he placed one servo on his hip. “Long story short Rattrap’s killer is a former Decepticon named Touchdown. He’s a big oaf who used to be in charge of running small operation facilities during the war. Prowl and his pathetic excuse of a police force are trying to track him down now before he can slip away, but who knows how long it’ll be before we-”

Starscream’s explanation was cut off by his comm ringing, his HUD revealing Prowl as the mech trying to contact him. With a sigh, he answered.

“What is it?”

“Starscream! We found him!” The officer shouted over the comm, Windblade and Chromia widening their eyes in surprise as they listened in. “We found Touchdown!”

“Wha-Already?!”

“He’s on the run through Iacon now! Ironhide and I caught him trying to board a private shuttle out of Nyon, we’re in pursuit now! Get over to Maccadam’s, we can use some air support!”

“Right, like a seeker can’t easily outmaneuver a grounder…I’m on my way.” He said before hanging up and turning to the other femmes. “Well, my dears, I’m afraid duty calls.” He sighed with a smirk before he started to run out towards the tower’s landing platform.

“Wait!” He heard Windblade call out as soon as he stepped foot on the platform, turning around only to find her running outside to join him. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?!” Chromia exclaimed. “Windblade, you can’t! The mob needs-”

“I can handle myself just fine.” She reassured her friend, Starscream closely watching her place the hilt of her Stormfall Sword on her hip. “And besides, Starscream said it best himself; people need to see that their leader is willing to risk themselves for any threats to them.”

She turned to her new advisor with a soft smile on her face, who offered a proud smirk in response.

“Glad to see you’re a quick learner.” Starscream commended.

“I’ve been told that a lot back on Caminus.”

The First Delegate turned her attention back to Chromia. “Meet us a Maccadam’s if you can make it,” Windblade instructed to her. “Prowl and Ironhide might need the support.”

“I…I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The blue Camien sighed as she quickly made her way back inside.

Once the two flyers were alone, Windblade turned back to Starscream. “Bet you’re itching to finally spread your wings, huh?” She asked with a bit of a smirk.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Starscream grinned back as the two of them began to race towards the edge of the platform and leap off it, freefalling for just a few moments before the two transformed and took flight towards Maccadam’s.

While he had never transformed in this frame prior, Starscream felt just as calm as flying in any of his other previous frames. The model aircraft his alt-mode took resembled that of a common speed-focused seeker frame, the blue body and wings with red and white highlights shining beautifully in the sky as he and Windblade made their way over to assist Prowl.

Flying just above Maccadam’s moments later, the two flyers quickly spotted the trio that was Prowl, Ironhide, and their target, Touchdown, racing on the street, with the two Autobots vigorously trying to incapacitate the brute with various vehicular takedowns, none of which seemed to be slowing down the murderer.

“This is Starscream,” The seeker said to Prowl and Ironhide over comms. “Windblade and I are right above Maccadam’s. We see the three of you approaching. As much as I hate to say it, what are your orders?”

“Wait, Windblade?” Prowl messaged back in confusion, trying to speed up to the large black and green mech’s side to try and hit his rear bumper again.

“Forget about that!” Ironhide called out to him, the officer’s smaller frame not carrying enough force to have a chance at moving Touchdown’s truck-like alt-mode. Prowl in response hit his brakes a bit to get back behind the ‘con. “’Scream! Get yerself ready ta slam into this guy’s side!” He then barked to the blue and red seeker above him. “I’ll try ta hit him from the same side!”

“Of course, make the seeker do the rough work too…” Starscream muttered under his breath. “I’m on it. Windblade, think you can slow him down for us?”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” The red and black jet beside him replied as she dived down towards the street alongside her advisor, Starscream only hovering just a few dozen feet over the left sidewalk right outside of Maccadam’s

With the three mechs less than a minute away from passing the fliers, Windblade transformed back as she landed on the street, extending her wings out and revving her engine as hard as she could to get her turbines spinning. Within in a few seconds, they manage to create a strong gust of wind blowing right at Touchdown, his overall speed slowed down in response.

“NOW!” she yelled at Starscream over the roar of her engine, Ironhide slamming on his own gas to ride nearly parallel to the brute on his left. At the same time, both Ironhide and Starscream slammed into Touchdown’s left side, the seeker transforming moments before hitting the murderer to turn his momentum into a high-speed tackle. The combined power of both mechs, thanks in part to Windblade decreasing Touchdown’s own momentum, left the brute knocked across the street and into the wall of the building on the same side, creating a decent Touchdown-shaped dent in said wall. The large mech had transformed back once he came to a stop, groaning in pain as laid on his stomach.

“Fr-Fraggin’…Dumbaft ‘bots…” He wheezed as he tried to get back up, coughing out a chipped denta along with some energon.

Prowl was quick to drive to where the dazed target had stopped, transforming and placing a hard pede down on his back, earning a short shout of pain from Touchdown as the one-eyed mech forcefully pulled his arms behind his back and bound them with stasis cuffs.

“Touchdown of Kaon…” he said to the mech under him as he hauled him up to a standing position. “You are under arrest for the murder of Rattrap, former advisor to First Delegate Windblade, and for illicit use of circuit boosters.”

“F-Frag off, ya piece of slag…” Touchdown growled weakly back, his optics flickering as his helm was rattled badly from the takedown.

Ironhide and Starscream at the same time slowly pulled themselves back up from the middle of the road, not many signs of damage on them apart from a few lines of paints scratched off their armor.

The familiar sound of a motorcycle engine broke through the dominant noise of the confused crowd, Chromia moving through them and transforming to run over to Ironhide, who was rubbing his jaw as he sat on the road.

“Ironhide!” She called out to him as she ran over, kneeling beside him and not seeming to acknowledge Starscream at all. “Windblade told me to meet her here. Are you alright?”

“Aw, don’t worry, darlin’, I’m good.” The larger red ‘bot reassured her, a warm smile on his face as he slowly stood up alongside Chromia. “Just got into a little tussle, that’s all.”

Windblade meanwhile made her way over to her advisor, her wings tucking back behind her as she watched him get up.

“Gah, look at this!” Starscream groaned in annoyance, gesturing to his left shoulder plate that had a moderately sized dent in it. “Not even two days in this new frame and I’m already going to have to get it buffered out! And those Autobots expect me to just so willingly let my body be marred by all this grunt work…”

She could only giggle softly in response to his theatrics. “Primus, with the way you were complaining, I thought you had actually broken something there.” She joked.

“Well, I suppose it’s a worthy sacrifice to ensure that New Cybertron’s streets stay safe for a little bit longer.” He sighed in response.

Huh. New Cybertron. The name was finally starting to grow on him.

His optics then shifted over to Prowl, who was soon joined by Ironhide and Chromia in escorting Touchdown back to the police station. “Suppose we should follow them for the interrogation I assume is to happen?” he asked Windblade as he continued watching them.

“Seems like the smart thing to do.” She agreed. “Yeah, he killed Rattrap, but this guy was seriously thinking this would work as an attempt to revive the Decepticons, we may have other loose ends we’ll have to go looking for.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Touchdown fell right on his aft as Ironhide shoved him into his cell, the hard-light barrier flashing on in an instant. He, Prowl, Chromia, Windblade, and Starscream all stood on the other side watching as Rattrap’s killer stood back up and snarled angrily, punching the barrier to no effect soon after that made none of them flinch even the slightest.

“Lockin’ me in here ain’t gonna stop this!” He growled at the others, his horribly misshapen denta on full display.

None of them were impressed, Windblade crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped in front of the larger brute, about a whole head taller than her.

“Stop _what, _exactly?” She asked him as her cyan optics glared daggers into his red ones. “What was this whole thing about?”

Touchdown began to chuckle softly from her questions, shaking his helm as he stepped back a bit from the barrier. “Ya think I killed that little rat because he had some dirt on me or somethin’?” he asked tauntingly to her and the others. “Nah, that ain’t it at all…Didn’t have a grudge with the little guy at all. But this little show you got goin’ on? This so-called, _peace _ya claim is happenin’? _That’s _what I got a problem with.”

“Well, sorry life doesn’t revolve around you…” Starscream muttered, earning him a brief glance from Chromia before Touchdown continued.

“This little pathetic play ya got goin’ on is gonna come tumblin’ down, glitch,” the brute taunted, Starscream curling his fists in anger at the derogatory remark he just spat out. “Cybertronians’ ain’t built for peace. We were made ta _fight. _And what I did? People are gonna see you for what ya really are; a pathetic femme who’s gonna let _two _Cybertrons die.”

Windblade grit her denta a bit in response, but was surprised to see it was Starscream who slammed against their side of the barrier instead of Chromia.

“She’s done more for your worthless aft than Optimus, Megatron, or _I _ever could!” the seeker shouted at Touchdown. “You think killing a single mech and hanging his corpse out as an art piece is going to start the next civil war? Your spark will burnout while you rust in this cell before _that _ever happens…”

“Starscream, that’s enough.” The blue and red mech heard Windblade say almost directly in his audial, her servo giving that gentle touch he oh-so longed for more of on his shoulder to calm his anger. “It’s over now. We stopped him.”

Starscream’s helm turned towards her, the Camien’s face neutral, but in a way, still quite calming. His optics staring right into hers for a few moments, he finally sighed and let her pull him away from Touchdown, with Chromia briefly checking her comm before also turning to the two of them.

“Got reports of a crowd outside the capital.” The blue femme told Windblade.

“Right, guess we need to make the announcement official then.” She responded before turning to Prowl. “I’ll leave Touchdown to you and Ironhide.” She then instructed to the one-eyed mech before she, Starscream, and Chromia saw themselves out, the seeker catching the briefest glimpse of Touchdown grinning madly back at them as they did.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was hard for Starscream to believe that he would be up on this podium twice in the matter of two days, but here he was. Standing on Windblade’s side alongside Chromia and some other guards, the former High Chancellor watched the femme stand at her podium with a strong sense of pride filling his spark. He knew Windblade had at least felt some of that pride by the confident smile she wore on her face as she prepared to address the crowd before them.

Starscream hadn’t even realized he was smiling himself until Chromia pointed it out for him.

“It’s a much better look on you, you know.” She told him, still keeping her optics focused on Windblade and the crowd before her.

The seeker briefly looked over to her, drawn out of his thoughts. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your smile.” She explained. “It’s better than having that annoying-to-look-at grimace you usually wear. It actually makes it somewhat bearable to be around you.”

Starscream only chuckled softly from her snarky remark. “I could care less whatever you think of me, but your words are appreciated.” He then replied.

“Aft.” Chromia scoffed with a roll of her optics as Windblade began her speech.

“People of New Cybertron!” Her voice rang down the street, full of conviction as she usually was. “I am here today to bring you much needed good news! Yesterday, as I’m sure many of you already know, my former advisor Rattrap was found murdered just outside of Maccadam’s. Many of you feared this would be the first of a large string of killings, or incite some sort of revolution. I am here to put those fears to rest, as Rattrap’s killer has been found and placed in custody of the Iacon Police Force!”

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, the sight quite the spectacle for Starscream to see given their previously mixed reaction at her last announcement.

“Earlier today, officer Prowl and my new associate, Starscream found the killer to be a former Decepticon by the name of Touchdown,” Windblade continued. “I then personally assisted in his arrest alongside the two of them, Chief Badgeless enforcer Ironhide, and my own personal bodyguard Chromia. No bystanders were harmed thanks to our actions, and Touchdown was subdued with little resistance. _This _is the Cybertron I wish for you all to see; one where peace _can _be achieved, one where no problem, big or small, is overlooked by your government, and one where your leader, is willing to risk just as much to ensure the safety of their people as most of you would! _That _is what I hope to accomplish with a unified New Cybertron!”

The crowd’s roars continued as Windblade’s speech concluded, some of the Cybertronians in the crowd actually beginning to chant her name in praise.

Yes, Starscream knew Windblade was going to be the one who would finally make the perfect Cybertron. And he would be even more relieved to know he would be the one to help her achieve it.

For what felt for the first time in forever, he had hope.

Until his comm began to ring.

The seeker barely managed to hear it over all of the commotion, turning away from the crowd so he could focus on the call.

“Starscream?” Prowl’s voice called.

“Yes, what is it already?” He asked back a bit loudly, finding it hard to concentrate with the crowd behind him.

“I need to talk to you,” He said in a somewhat urgent voice. “It’s about Touchdown.”

“Yes, well can it wait a bit? I can barely hear you over all of this ruckus Windblade’s crowd is making.”

“No, it can’t!” he shouted back. “He’s dead!”

Starscream’s spark sank as he heard those two words.

“What?!”

“Touchdown’s dead!” the officer clarified. “In his cell, he suddenly started clutching his head and he…He smashed his own head in!”

Well then. So much for hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys once again for reading this (hopefully) exciting chapter! And sorry to disappoint some of you, but unfortunately, the final chapter of this fic TECHNICALLY doesn't finish the whole plot of this story, but instead serves as a conclusion to what I consider to be the first part of a trilogy! I hope you all understand, but I promise this last chapter will be one you'll enjoy! See you on Friday!


	6. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks have passed following Touchdown's death, and New Cybertron is facing dark times. It's at this point that Starscream tries to console Windblade, and they both make a decision they may soon regret...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention! We finally have smut! This is your first, and only warning!

Chaos.

It had already begun to spiral into that in the few weeks following Touchdown’s murder. Starscream learned that Rattrap’s killer had not committed suicide as Prowl initially believed it to be, but rather that some form of brainwashing or remote controlling was the culprit. Airachnid was immediately considered to be the primary suspect in Touchdown’s death, but for her to perform such an act would require her to physically subdue him, and was therefore eventually no longer considered to be his murderer.

With the investigation into these strings of murders going cold, there was little anyone could do as nearly half a dozen more Cybertronians were found dead in the weeks after, each and every one of them flayed and set up in artistic displays of viscera for all to see as Rattrap once was. And as before, they all bared the same message written in energon above their corpses.

_YOU ARE BEING DECEIVED _

Touchdown’s threat to Windblade ended up partially becoming true in the wake of his death; the rapid string of murders had a decent portion of New Cybertron’s population become unsatisfied with her rule, pinning the deaths of their brothers and sisters on her supposed incompetence. It wasn’t long after that before riots started to break out across the planet, primarily composed of the already colonized Functionist population. While fatalities were practically nonexistent, several dozens of protestors had ended up badly wounded as result.

Starscream could only imagine how well Windblade was taking all of this as he sat down at Windblade’s desk in her office, groaning in annoyance as he just finished a call with Prowl about yet another riot in Tarn. Even on _this _Cybertron the citizens of Tarn were quite the troublemakers.

As he lazily rested his helm on the desk, muttering to himself in disappointment, he caught a brief glimpse of the yellow mech walking into the office.

“Primus, how many days in a row have they been at it out there now?” Bumblebee asked in disbelief as he looked outside the windows in front of the seeker to observe an angry mob that had gathered outside of the capital.

“I lost count at this point,” Starscream admitted. “Four, five, somewhere around there. Ironhide’s having a field day keeping them _somewhat _complacent, I’m sure. “

The seeker’s purple optics then noticed the datapad the former scout was carrying in his servos. “That the report from the Council?” He asked him.

“Yep,” Bee sighed as he handed Starscream the pad, who began to look it over. “It’s got the usual stuff Windblade’s expecting; Weapon requests from the Solstar Order, energon stashes for the guys still on Earth, etc.”

The blue and red mech nodded before bringing his focus back onto Bee. “I wish these supply requests were the worst of our problems right now…” He sighed.

“Tell me about it,” the yellow councilmech replied. “Has she said anything to you yet about uh…how she’s doing?”

Starscream’s optics focused on the desk as his wings drooped sadly in response to the mention of Windblade. “I don’t even know,” he admitted with a shake of his helm. “It’s been almost a week since I last spoke with her. She’s been held up in her own quarters, only really seeing Chromia the few times she’s let anyone in. Since then, I’ve been handling all ‘official political matters’ while I’ve said she’s out on an important meeting on Earth.”

“Do you think maybe you should go check on her?”

“I…I don’t know, Bumblebee.” He sighed deeply. “You know I’m no good at this…’comforting’ thing you and the rest of your damn Autobots are so fond of doing.”

“But you’re her friend, aren’t you?”

“Ugh, yes, but-”

“But nothing. Starscream, I know you can do this. Do you realize how much you’ve helped her already, especially in those first two days?”

“Me? Help her? Please…She had it in herself all this time.”

“Whether you believe that or not, I know for a fact Windblade wants your company. She was constantly stressed out those five years you were gone, and the first day I saw her when you woke up, I swear I hadn’t seen her that comfortable and happy since before Unicron!”

Starscream sighed as he looked over Windblade’s desk, spotting a small framed photo of what looked like her with Chromia on Caminus, along with an oddly familiar purple femme. What was her name again? She was one of those bots that went on Rodimus’ little trip, cute engineer femme.

Nautica, that was it. But besides the point, he noticed how happy Windblade looked there. And regardless of whether or not Starscream wanted to believe it, he had to accept that he probably makes her just as happy as those two femmes do.

Who was he to let his friend suffer alone?

“She looks to you for guidance, Starscream.” Bee continued. “I know she’ll want to see you.”

Taking a deep sigh, the seeker finally stood up from the desk. “Alright, I’ll go see her,” he answered as he began to walk out of her office. “I’ll tell you how she is tomorrow then?”

Bumblebee’s face lit up with a soft smile as the seeker turned back to him. “Of course.” He replied simply.

Starscream answered with a smile of his own before he pushed the doors apart to leave the office.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The seeker stopped dead in his tracks as he stood in front of the door to Windblade’s private quarters. He knew he had to go in, but part of his spark was still hesitant to.

“Stop being a coward, Starscream,” he told himself as he shook his helm. “She needs you. She needs her friend…”

Counting down from ten, the seeker finally mustered the courage to knock on Windblade’s door.

“Windblade?” He called out with a hint of concern in his tone. “It’s Starscream…Your friend.”

There was no response from the Camien, only the subtle sound of her shifting in her berth. Starscream sighed upon hearing it.

“Please, I…I just want to talk. Is that alright?”

Again, he heard no reply from her, optics looking over at the door’s control panel to notice the door had not been locked the whole time.

“I’m…I’m going to come in, alright?” He called out to her. “If you don’t want me to, say it now.”

Starscream gave Windblade a few more seconds to answer him, but when that familiar silence persisted, his servo moved over to the panel to open the door, sliding open instantly.

As he walked inside, the sight before him nearly shattered his spark. Sitting up somewhat on her berth was Windblade, giggling softly to herself with her back pressed against the berth and a bottle of high-grade in her servo. His optics eyeing the bottle, he noticed that she was nearly halfway through it. And it clearly wasn’t her first, as two other empty bottles littered the floor beside her berth. The lights in the room were off, only the light from the city below and the moonlight above illuminating the room from the glass wall opposite to her berth.

Starscream locked her door behind him as he walked over in front of the former Cityspeaker, a frown on his face as he did so; he knew Windblade had taken the past string of events pretty hard, but he had no idea she would have been driven to drink like this.

Her usually bright cyan optics dimmed a bit out of exhaustion, she seemed to not even notice Starscream for a while before she finally acknowledged his presence.

“O-Oh, Starscreaaamm!” She said to him with a lazy smile on her face, her words quite slurred from the high-grade. “Hey, wh-what are you doing here?”

“I came here to check on my friend.” He replied, doing his best to put on a comforting smile as he sat down beside her on the berth. “I’m honestly surprised, Windblade. I never took you for a big drinker.”

“Y-Yep.” She said following a short hiccup. “I’m just _fuuullllll_ of surprises! Wi-With everything going to abso-absolute slag, thought it miigggghhht be a good time to f-finally drink some of this stuff.”

Starscream huffed in annoyance at the black and red femme’s attitude, still occasionally giggling to herself. “Windblade, this isn’t you.” He said firmly, grabbing her free hand in an attempt to get her to focus on him. “You’re better than this, better than…resorting to drinking. I know you are.”

The First Delegate looked right at Starscream as he spoke, her face changing from a lazy smile to an angry glare. “Wh-Who said _you _know me?!” She shouted as she roughly yanked her servo out of his grasp. “I’m not gonna be the next Optimus, Starscream! I already let Cybertron, _our _Cybertron die! And now it’s going to happen again, and bunch more Cybertronians are going to die!”

The seeker flinched a bit as she snapped at him, at a complete loss for words while Windblade ranted.

“So many people have died because of me…” She sighed as she looked down sadly, optics focused on her own legs as she started to pull her knees into her chest. “Wheeljack, Blurr, Ironhide…Their…Their _copies _here...they have no idea what kind of troubles they faced on our Cybertron…How they _died _because of what I thought was right…I just…I just can’t do this anymore!”

She put down the bottle of high-grade on her night table before she buried her face in her servos, starting to sob softly. Starscream could only feel pity for the femme in front of him as he watched; he had been where she currently was more times than he could count throughout his life, whether it be from countless millennia of abuse from Megatron, his own inability to lead the Decepticons when Megatron had fallen into a prolonged coma, and more recently with his own reign as Cybertron’s High Chancellor. Each of those times he had wanted nothing more than to give up, often many of those times contemplating whether he should rip out his own spark just to end the suffering.

But that wasn’t who Starscream was. He may be a coward, a selfish mech, a schemer who never plays fair, but to roll over and accept defeat? He would never.

No matter how often that thought crossed his mind, the seeker would always push himself forward. With every thought he ever had to give up, ten more yelling at him to soldier on overpowered it.

And he knew deep down, Windblade had that drive too. She just needed someone to help her reach it.

“Windblade.”

Starscream’s voice was soft and gentle as he placed his servo down on her shoulder, the femme pulling her face out of her own to look up at him with a small smirk on his face.

“You can’t possibly consider yourself to be a failure, or at the very least more of a failure than _I _was.” He explained to her. “I mean, look at me! Ended up assassinating my way to the position of High Chancellor, blackmailed several of my closest allies into a forced servitude, and not to mention multiple accounts of illegal experimentation on my subjects. Do you _truly _believe that just because you failed to stop an ancient superweapon that took a _Prime _sacrificing himself to destroy it from devouring Cybertron, and because we haven’t found a serial killer you’re a failure compared to me?”

Windblade stared into his purple optics for quite some time, appearing to find some sort of clarity in them before looking back down.

“I…I suppose not…” She said softly without moving her helm, unable to hold back another small hiccup. “But I still could’ve been a better leader…”

“Primus, you won’t really let this go, will you?” Starscream sighed as he grabbed the bottle of high-grade Windblade had set down earlier, grabbing two glasses off a shelf he had noticed on his way in and filling them up. “Well, if you _truly _insist on being a failure, you must at least be willing to admit that you’ll never in your life come as close to a failure as yours truly.” He then joked, one of his signature smirks once again on his face.

It actually got Windblade to giggle softly, looking back up at Starscream with the first genuine smile she had all night. “I-I guess that’s something to feel good about.” She said as she took the glass the seeker had offered her.

“Well, I’m glad I managed to lighten your mood somewhat. To be honest, I’ve always found myself to be terrible at this whole ‘feelings’ thing, but you just seem to bring out the best in me, I suppose.”

Windblade prayed that Starscream didn’t notice the slight blue tint that was now on her face as a result of the compliment.

“Starscream…?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you mind if you stayed with me, tonight? I could…really use the company.”

Starscream couldn’t help the smile that instantly formed on his face. “I would like nothing more.”

The seeker then began to raise his glass in front of him. “To being failures?” he teasingly asked.

“To being less of a failure than you.” Windblade said back with a drunken grin of her own, clinking her glass with Starscream’s soon after and taking a drink from her glass.

“Oh, you wound me, Windblade, truly.” Starscream laughed as he drank with her.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At this point, no mech or femme in their right mind would ever say they would be able to see Starscream and Windblade actually act friendly to one another.

The thought would never even cross their mind that the two would be laughing up a storm in a drunken haze together.

In the immediate hours following Starscream’s arrival to Windblade’s quarters, the two had lost track of time as they began to amuse each other with humorous tale after humorous tale, both fliers having managed to finish off the rather large bottle of high-grade they had started out with. Their cheeks were both respectively flushed in pink and blue tones, accentuated by smiles that seemed impossible to remove.

Windblade gave off a rather hearty laugh as Starscream finished recalling one of many other Decepticon stories he had retold over the course of that night. “W-Wait, Wait, Wait, seriously?!” She asked incredulously. “Megatron g-got so drunk he tried to head out after Optimus h-himself?!”

Starscream nodded eagerly in response, unable to hold back an excited giggle of his own. “A-And it took me, Skywarp, _and _Thundercracker to pin…pin him down!”

The two of them engaged in another round of enthusiastic laughs soon after, Starscream’s wings fluttering cutely as he flopped down on his back beside Windblade on the berth, both fliers staring idly out at the city in front of them, the city that was just one of a whole planet’s worth they had to ensure the protection of.

But right now, that was the last thing either of them wanted to think about.

When their laughter died down, Windblade sighed and glanced over somewhat at Starscream.

“He-Hey…Hey, Starscream,”

“Hmm?”

“How come w-we’ve never done this kinda stuff before?” She mused as her optics stared out over the skyline, pedes twitching a bit as she was unable to remain still.

“We-Well, because you hate me with a burning...burning passion.” Starscream joked with a hiccup.

“That’s bullllscrap,” Windblade groaned, rolling over onto her side to face the seeker. “I r-really like you.”

“Baaaahh, that’s impossible!”

“H-Heyyy, I’m serious! Plus, it…k-kinda helps when your new body is uh, pr-pretty easy on the optics…”

If Starscream wasn’t drunk, his face would’ve turned completely pink for sure upon hearing the comment from Windblade. Instead, he turned over to face her as well, one hand holding up his helm. “Is th-that so…?” He asked her with a sly smirk on his face. “I thought I’ve had frames _far _more handsome th-than this one.”

“Eeeeehhhh, your red one is a close second,” Windblade admitted before slowly bringing a servo up towards Starscream’s frame to trace its digits down his blue and red chestplate in random patterns. “But I guess kn-knowing what you’re _really _supposed to look like just makes you all the more attractive…”

Starscream couldn’t suppress the soft moan that escaped his lips as he was touched again by Windblade, pushing himself evermore into those gentle brushes of digits he so desired. “P-Primus, I love your touch…” he then muttered under his breath, optics fluttering shut as he tried to focus on the absolute pleasure he was feeling in that moment.

Windblade’s somewhat heavy optics blinked a bit in surprise at this, her wings perking up in interest as well. “Really?” She asked with a hint of teasing in her voice as she brought her servo back up to scratch the seeker’s neck, who tilted it back in response. “My servos f-feel that good?”

“O-Oh Primus, yes…” Starscream gasped, wings now constantly fluttering like an excited puppy. “Y-You know when you cleaned me…In the shower…?”

He had no idea why he was saying this to her, but the only thing he _did _know was that he wanted more than anything to have her hands on him like they were those several days ago.

“Yeaaaah?”

“That’s why I d-didn’t want to…”

Starscream didn’t have to look at Windblade to know what mischievous thought she was thinking of next. Within an instant the seeker found himself pinned on his back by the other femme, gasping in shock as he immediately looked up at her. She swiftly straddled his waist, forcing a low moan from both fliers as their interface panels rubbed together ever so slightly, but enough to stimulate their quickly heating arrays.

Oh frag.

The red and blue mech couldn’t deny how irresistible Windblade looked like this, looming over him like the finest cloak or sheet, one he wanted to cover him immediately and blanket him in pleasure.

“Wha…What are you doing…?” He asked in between another choked moan as a result of her sleek black and red frame grinding against his yet again.

“Well, _obviously _I’m going to give you that touch of mine you s-seem to really like.” Windblade purred with an oddly lustful tone to her voice, her cheeks nearly completely blue as a result of both her intoxication and the rising temperature of her frame, evident by the transfluids that started to leak onto Starscream’s groin from behind her panels.

Fluids that began to mix with some that had already begun leaking from _his _valve too.

Huh. Well then.

“I-I…”

Starscream’s stammering was interrupted by the Camien atop him as she suddenly grabbed his wrists and held them down against the berth on either side of his helm and pressed her body down entirely on top of his, only giving him a few more seconds perhaps before he suddenly found his lips slammed against hers.

Purple optics opened wide for only brief moments, Starscream quickly shut them as he felt Windblade’s glossa lap at his lips. Primus, the wet appendage felt just as good as her servos did holding his own down. Not that he couldn’t escape her hold, he definitely could. But putting himself at the First Delegate’s mercy was a though far too arousing to pass up.

With a great eagerness Starscream’s mouth opened, moaning back into Windblade’s as his glossa thrusted against hers and causing his hips to buck up roughly, a soft clang of metal filling the femme’s quarters and forcing a moan of her own out of her intake.

Starscream’s digits flexed wildly in Windblade’s grasp, optics still squeezed shut as he actually began to whine into her mouth desperately for more physical interaction. His prayers were answered as she pulled away from his mouth following the whine, both flier’s panting hot clouds of exvents into each other’s faces, inches away as a string of oral lubricant kept their lips connected.

“A-Are you…Are you going to stop…?” Starscream finally managed to ask, still panting.

A lopsided smile formed on Windblade’s face in response, wiping any stray oral lubricants from her mouth. “No-Not for a while…” She groaned as she slowly removed her grip on his arms. And immediately followed it with a rough bite to Starscream’s intake.

The seeker was true to his name that night as he moaned loudly in ecstasy, his own servos grabbing onto her shoulder plates to steady himself while Windblade lapped and nipped at various cables on his neck, barely able to control himself as those damn wonderful servos of hers began to wander his body once again, pulling and tugging on various bits of armor and dipping into any transformation seams she was sure she could use to force one of those lovely moans out of her advisor.

The pleasure was overwhelming for Starscream, so much so that he hadn’t realized his interface panel had snapped open until he heard the red and black femme above him moan particularly sharply upon feeling his fully pressurized spike rub against her belly, leaving thin lines of prefluids on her armor. And not to mention the soft hiss that escaped Starscream’s throat as the cool air hit his exposed valve, already starting to drip onto the sheets below both fliers.

The seeker looked up at Windblade with a lustful glaze over his optics, finding she was doing the same with his own optics. He wasn’t thinking straight, he couldn’t possibly be. It was the only explanation for why he wasn’t absolutely mortified by what was happening.

Before Starscream could even get another word out, another soft click was heard, both fliers letting out an elongated moan as Windblade’s now exposed valve folds rubbed ever so gently against the head of his spike. His length throbbed in response, the femme’s folds catching a few strings of transfluids beading from it.

When the two had recovered from the short, yet arousing clash of array, they found their optics locked again, unsure of what their next move would be. Until Windblade decided upon it shortly after.

“I want to ride you.” She said with a roll of her hips as her servos kept themselves rested on Starscream’s chest, thumbs idly rubbing circles into his protoform.

“Wha-What…? Windblade, I-”

“L-Let me do something I won’t be a failure at…Please…”

The seeker should have said anything else. This didn’t feel right, they weren’t thinking straight, _anything _that got what his processor was trying to scream to him.

“Do it.” Was all he could manage to say in the lustful haze he was in in that moment.

His servos moving to gently grab Windblade’s hips, Starscream slowly helped guide her until he positioned ever so tantalizingly over his spike, the length of it twitching eagerly as it awaited her warm calipers to clench around it.

It wasn’t long before she let her valve take the entirety of his spike, both her and Starscream tossing their helms back to make their shared pleasure vocal to each other.

Now seated on top of the seeker, Windblade started to bounce on his spike in earnest, the blue and red mech’s optics glitching occasionally as a result of the overwhelming pleasure he was experiencing. Finding it too difficult to focus on both how unbelievably sexy Windblade looked with her optics unfocused and coated in a thin layer of coolant while she rode his spike, and the orgasmic pleasure he was experiencing as his spike thrusted effortlessly in and out of the Camien’s valve, Starscream decided to give up his sight for this moment, moaning just as loud as her now as he nuzzled his face into one of her servos.

It wasn’t long after that before Windblade decided to poke at the seeker’s lips with her thumb, Starscream eagerly opening his mouth to suck on the wonderful digit. He soon began to moan around it and more of her digits as well, only wordless cries and the occasional curse of pleasure slipping through as they both reveled in wonderful bliss they had found themselves together in in that moment.

The former Decepticon’s helm swam with far more feelings of delight than he had ever experienced before in that moment, so much so he had completely forgotten when Windblade claimed his lips once more, eating her cries and moans of pleasure as her valve squeezed Starscream’s spike tight one last time, both fliers overloading in near sync soon after.

It took Starscream quite a while after that to pull away from Windblade’s mouth, only able to pant softly as the kiss lingered while transfluids smeared all over his groin. Oh, he’d have paint transfers for sure. But such a trivial problem was in the back of his mind as he pulled away ever so softly.

Both of their optics fluttered open as they finally recovered from their overloads, each of their hot exvents once again blowing against their coolant soaked faces. Both of their lips were badly swollen, a few small bites leaking energon from Starscream’s neck thanks to Winblade’s bites. But these mattered not. No words were spoken in these moments, both failures finding a moment of clarity in the afterglow.

Neither of them were perfect. They never would be. But they didn’t care. They wanted to feel _something _good for once, and frag everyone else if they didn’t want them to have it.

“A-Again…?” Starscream asked.

“Yes. Yes, Star…”

A low groan escaped the seeker’s mouth as Windblade began to ride his spike again, silencing himself by claiming those wonderful lips for what would surely not be the last time that night.

That night was utter chaos for both them, and Cybertron. But in that moment, the two failures wanted nothing more than to live in that chaos forever. Regardless of the trials they were to endure in its aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading through my first completed fanfic! First off, I want to apologize for the cliffhanger ending, mostly leaving the big question of who exactly Touchdown's killer is. I always imagined this fic as essentially a "teaser" to a larger trilogy I wish to tell, so if it makes you feel better, this is essentially "Part One" of this story. I can't say for sure when exactly Part Two will be out, though I hopefully would like to have the first chapter out by next spring/summer, but I CAN tell you what it'll cover!
> 
> In Part Two (Name TBA), we will be dealing with the fallout of Starscream and Windblade's little...incident that just occurred, and see how the two of them (and potentially others) react to the news. Then it's back to hunting for the new murderer, which I can CERTAINLY say you'll find out who it is by the end. Also, Part Two will (hopefully) be around twice the size of this fic, aiming for at least ten chapters, but hopefully somewhere between 10-15. Without having the time constraints of a Big Bang, I can focus more on writing at my own pace (to which I hope that you all will please bear with me!) 
> 
> But once again, thank you all so much for the love you've shown me with publishing my first fic! I was really nervous to write this, but the kudos and positive comments you all gave me was definitely worth it! See you next time!


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